liliiii 


SYMPHON 


! 


i 


warn 

IT 


THE   SYMPHONY   PLAY 


THE 

SYMPHONY  PLAY 

A  PLAY  IN   FOUR  ACTS 


BY 

JENNETTE    LEE 

AUTHOR  OF  "THE  WOMAN  IN  THE  ALCOVE,"  "AUNT  JANE,"  ETC 


NEW  YORK 

CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 
1916 


COPYRIGHT,  1916,  BY 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


Published  March,  1916 


TO 
GERALD  STANLEY  LEE 

"Suddenly  a  boy's  shrill  voice  rose  into  the  sky.  He 
traversed  the  dark  unseen,  leaving  the  track  of  his  song 
across  the  hush  of  the  evening." 


343557 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

ACT  I.       Prelude,     "  Billy  Boy." 

ACT  II.    Allegro,      "The  Mother." 

ACT  III.  Andante,    "The    Brother." 

ACT  IV.   Allegro,      "The  Lady  With  Wings." 


FOREWORD 

THERE  was  once  an  author  who  had  an  idea. 
She  had  not  intended  to  have  it.  She  had  not 
even  been  thinking;  she  had  been  merely  sitting 
in  her  window,  by  the  Jerusalem  cherry-tree, 
wondering  why  she  wanted  to  write  a  one-act 
play,  wondering  why  everybody  wanted  to 
write  one-act  plays  —  when  there  was  hardly 
a  manager  in  America  who  would  look  at  one, 
much  less  put  it  on  the  stage. 

And  yet  the  author  saw  that  she  was  going 
to  write  the  one-act  play;  and  in  her  mind's  eye 
she  saw  hundreds  of  other  writers  hard  at  work 
on  one-act  plays,  and  writers  not  yet  born,  and 
writers  just  entering  their  teens  and  sharpen 
ing  their  pencils  to  begin.  It  was  a  pathetic 
sight,  all  those  wasted  plays !  .  .  .  .  And  who 
that  had  known  the  one-act  joy  and  concen 
tration  and  skill  would  ever  willingly  abandon 
it  for  loose  threes  and  fours  or  even  the  clas 
sical  fives  of  Shakespeare's  perfect  form  ? 

And  then  suddenly  the  idea  came  to  her 

She  sat  and  looked  at  it.  She  stared  at  it  — 
a  little  unbelieving  —  and  she  looked  thought 
fully  at  the  Jerusalem  cherry-tree. 

ix 


FOREWORD 


It  was  too  good  to  be  true.  And  yet  —  why 
not  ? 

Why  should  there  not  be  such  a  thing  as  a 
Symphony  Play,  a  play  made  up  of  one-act 
plays  —  three,  or  four,  of  them  or  even  five  - 
plays  not  merely  "linked  together  by  intervals 
of  silence"  and  a  dropped  curtain,  but  one-act 
plays  so  related  in  color  and  tone  and  progres 
sive  meaning  that  together  they  would  form  a 
perfect  whole  —  as  the  movements  of  a  Sonata 
form  a  whole,  or  a  Symphony  ? 

Why  not  ? 

*         *         *         * 

Out  of  the  dance  music  and  folk-song  of  the 
sixteenth  century  arose  the  crude  beginning 
of  Symphony  form,  first  in  the  joining  together 
of  short  pieces  by  different  composers,  for  per 
formance  on  the  virginal  and  spinet,  and  later 
in  the  composition  by  a  single  musician  of  sev 
eral  short  numbers  to  be  played  together;  these 
combinations  under  the  name  of  "sets"  achieved 
popularity  in  Elizabethan  England,  they  spread 
rapidly  to  the  Continent  as  "suites"  and  de 
veloped  finally,  through  the  "cyclic  form"  and 
Concerto,  into  the  Sonata  and  Symphony.  .  .  . 
Is  it  forcing  a  parallel  to  imagine  in  the  present 
superabundance  of  one-act  plays  a  situation  not 


FOREWORD 


unlike  that  of  the  sixteenth  century  in  music, 
and  in  the  gathering  together  of  several  one- 
act  plays  for  single  performance  something 
analogous  to  the  crude  beginning  in  sets  and 
suites  that  was  later  to  become  the  Symphony 
form  ?  .  .  .  The  Princess  Theatre,  with  a  com 
plete  bill  month  after  month  of  one-act  plays 
—  the  "Little  Theatres"  seeming  to  prefer 
short,  one-act  pieces  to  longer  ones  —  Mr. 
Morosco  staging  a  presentation  of  the  three 
one-act  plays  of  Mr.  Hartley  Manners  —  these 
and  other  scattered  attempts  at  grouping  plays 
into  wholes,  are  straws.  One  would  not  like  to 
prove  by  them  the  beginning  of  a  new  dramatic 
form. 

But  in  them,  as  in  the  little  dance  movements 
of  the  sixteenth  century,  there  may  be  vitality 
that  will  one  day  supplant  the  four  and  five  act 
play,  as  the  Symphony  when  it  came  to  per 
fection  in  the  work  of  Haydn  and  Mozart  and 
Beethoven  supplanted  the  Fugue. 

It  is  not  hard  to  understand  how  the  cyclic 
form  that  developed  in  the  early  days  side  by 
side  with  fugal  form,  came  eventually  to  dis 
place  and  crowd  out  the  Fugue. 

And  the  detailed  description  of  a  Fugue, 
transposed  into  dramatic  terms,  might  easily 

xi 


FOREWORD 


be  the  description  of  a  Shakespearian  play. 
For  counterpoint  one  has  only  to  read  counter 
part.  In  both  Fugue  and  play  there  is  the  same 
long-drawn,  sustained  development  of  a  single 
idea,  in  both  the  same  presentation  of  theme  and 
counter-theme,  the  same  development  through 
a  succession  of  acts  or  phases  of  the  original  sub 
ject,  the  same  return  upon  itself  and  progression 
with  added  force,  the  same  "episode"  near  the 
end  to  afford  relief  from  the  continued  repeti 
tion  of  the  subject,  and  as  an  opportunity  for 
modulation,  the  same  quickening  of  develop 
ment  toward  the  end  and  the  same  culmination 
in  a  sustained  dominant  note  toward  which  it 
has  all  moved,  and  in  which  it  finds  satisfaction 
and  release.  The  analysis  of  fugal  construction 
reads  surprisingly  like  a  chapter  in  Freytag's 
"Technique  of  the  Drama."  The  Bach  Fugue 
and  the  Shakespeare  Play  are  strangely  alike. 


Art  that  is  alive  partakes  of  the  spirit  of  its 
time.  And  the  time-spirit  that  moves  to-day  in 
painting  and  in  music  is  not  that  of  Elizabethan 
England  nor  of  Athens.  Only  in  the  theatre  — 
which  of  all  art  is  supposed  to  be  closest  to 
life  —  does  it  cling  to  forms  of  the  past. 

xii 


FOREWORD 


The  Greek  Play  —  a  sculpture-play,  the  dra 
matic  embodiment  of  life,  three-dimensional 
and  demanding  a  body  in  proportion  to  its  soul 
—  the  Greek  Play  is  perfect  and  flawless  and  full 
of  statuesque  beauty.  One  may  walk  all  around 
the  Greek  drama,  survey  it  from  all  sides  and 
find  nothing  hidden,  no  mystery  or  emotion. 
From  every  point  of  view  the  Greek  Play  re 
mains  cold  and  static  and  colossal.  It  became 
perfect  as  sculpture  became  perfect  with  Greek 
civilization,  and  passed  by. 

The  Shakespearian  Play,  a  painting-play,  a 
dramatic  color-picture  of  life,  full  of  richness  and 
movement,  appeals  to  the  emotion  as  painting 
and  color  appeal;  the  action  takes  place,  as  in 
a  painting,  outside  the  spectator;  the  audience 
looks  on  at  what  takes  place  on  a  picture 
stage.  .  .  .  More  subtle  and  less  lofty  than  the 
sculpture-play,  the  Shakespearian  form,  too, 
has  passed,  or  is  passing;  and  we  are  groping 
for  the  new  play  that  shall  express  our  time  — 
our  nervous,  quick,  psychic,  dramatic,  deep- 
whirling  soul  —  the  play  that  like  music  shall 
express  more  than  color  or  form  or  words,  by 
means  that  cannot  be  analyzed  as  color  and 
form  are  analyzed. 

And  the  new  play,  if  one  may  venture  a 
xiii 


FOREWORD 


guess,  will  not  be,  like  the  Greek  Play,  the  em 
bodiment  of  life  —  but  almost,  as  in  Maeter 
linck,  a  Juembodiment  —  thin  as  a  veil  be 
tween  two  worlds,  revealing  and  hiding  and 
holding  the  meaning  and  significance  of  what 
passes  on  the  stage. 

There  will  be,  perhaps,  little  of  substance  or 
form  to  the  new  play,  and  little  will  seem  to 
happen  on  the  stage;  but  in  the  spirit  of  the 
audience  something  will  come  to  pass;  and 
when  the  curtain  goes  down  the  play  will  not 
be  finished  —  for  the  thing  that  has  come  to  life 
between  the  play  on  the  stage  and  the  men  and 
women  looking  on,  must  go  out  with  them,  to 
play  its  part  in  the  world-theatre  of  life. 

It  is  easy  to  dream  the  new  play  that  shall 
express  the  twentieth  century  as  the  plays  of 
Euripides  expressed  Athens,  and  those  of  Shake 
speare,  Elizabethan  England  —  a  play  lifting 
into  a  still  clear  light  the  common  things  of  life 
and  revealing  significance. 

Easy  to  dream ! 


Without  doubt,  in  the  early  eighteenth  cen 
tury  there  were  critics  to  whom  the  Fugue  was 
the  last  word  in  music  —  critics  to  whom  the 
xiv 


FOREWORD 


suggestion  of  a  new  musical  form  would  have 
been  akin  to  sacrilege,  or  at  best  a  kind  of  fool 
ishness.  For  them  the  Fugue  was  the  only  pos 
sible  way  of  music,  and  Johann  Sebastian  Bach 
had  made  perfect  the  Fugue  and  finished  it. 
Henceforth  music  could  only  repeat  itself.  Any 
other  course  would  have  seemed  to  them  a 
dreary  stretch  of  imagination.  .  .  .  But,  already, 
insignificant  musicians,  men  not  fit  to  tie  Johann 
Sebastian's  shoe  —  already  these  little  musi 
cians  were  at  work,  tinkering  with  a  new  form 
—  little  dance  tunes,  gavottes  and  gigues  and 
reels;  already  some,  more  venturesome  than 
others  because  more  alive,  had  gathered  these 
little  tunes  into  sets  and  suites;  already  the 
Sonata  was  coming  to  be  and  the  way  was 
making  ready  along  which  Beethoven  was  to 
come  one  day  bringing,  out  of  mystery  and 
the  genius  of  the  human  race,  the  music  of  the 
Symphony. 


xv 


ACT  I 

PRELUDE 

BILLY  BOY 


CHARACTERS 

OLD  WOMAN. 
BILLY,  a  boy. 
FRED,  another  boy. 


The  Symphony  Play 


ACT  I 


SCENE:  Edge  of  a  wood.  Foreground,  tall 
trunks  of  trees,  high  foliage  with  sunlight 
shining  through;  light  undergrowth  of  ferns, 
etc.,  rocks  here  and  there ;  between  the  trunks 
is  seen  a  background  of  hemlocks  and  pines 
reaching  to  ground.  Left  centre  of  foreground, 
OLD  WOMAN  dressed  in  black,  seated  on 
rock,  writing  on  pad  on  her  knee.  Two  boys 
stealing  through  trees,  L.  back,  carrying  bows 
and  arrows;  see  OLD  WOMAN  and  stop; 
steal  forward  on  tiptoe,  nudging  each  other 
to  keep  quiet.  Sound  of  distant  firing  heard. 
OLD  WOMAN  lifts  head  and  stops  writing; 
listens  a  minute,  then  goes  on  writing.  Boys 
steal  nearer. 

OLD  WOMAN 

[looks  around  at  them]  I'm  glad  you  haven't  a 
gun.  I  heard  some  one  shooting  just  now. 

[Boys  circle  her  and  come  front  and  regard  her 
curiously. 

3 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

BILLY 

The*   ain't   anybody  let  to  shoot  in  these 

woods 

FRED 

They're  Baxter's  woods,  and  he'd  get  after 
anybody  that  was  shootin'  here. 

BILLY 
Yes,  sir,  he  would  ! 

OLD  WOMAN 

I'm  glad  of  that.  I'd  hate  to  have  my  head 
shot  right  off,  sitting  here. 

BILLY 

[protectingly]  The'  won't  anybody  hurt  you 
here. 

OLD  WOMAN 

How  does  it  happen  you  are  not  in  school  ? 
Isn't  this  Monday  ? 

BOTH 
[together]  It's  Columbus  Day 


OLD  WOMAN 
What  is  that  ? 

4 


BILLY  BOY 


BOTH 

[speaking  together  and  tumbling  over  each  other  to 
get  in  ahead] 

BILLY 
Columbus  was  a  man,  and  he 

FRED 
America  was  discovered  in  14 

BILLY 

[turning,  breathless]  Fred,  will  you  keep  still 
and  let  me  tell  this  ?  [FRED  stops  speaking,  but 
his  mouth  keeps  opening  and  shutting,  ready  to 
break  in.]  Columbus  was  a  man,  and  he  sailed 
—  and  sailed  —  till  he  come  to  a  new  world,  and 
he  called  it  America,  and  so  we  have  a  holiday. 
It  was  hundreds 

FRED 

[glibly]  Fourteen  hundred  and  ninety-two. 

OLD  WOMAN 

That's  fine  —  to  have  a  holiday  just  because 
a  man  sailed  —  and  sailed  !  What  are  you  going 
to  do  with  it  ? 

[They  look  at  each  other  questioningly  and 
glance  behind  them  into  woods. 

5 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

BILLY 
We  got  a  camp 

FRED 
It's  a  dandy  camp !  The's  a  big  tree,  you 

know 

BILLY 

[pushing  him  aside]  It's  holler  —  oh,  it's  awful 
big !  [Looks  about  him.}  Bigger'n  any  tree.  An' 
we  get  inside  it. 

OLD  WOMAN 
You  can't  both  get  in ! 

BOTH 

Yes,  sir 

BILLY 

Four  of  us  has  got  in  it  —  to  once,  standing 
close.  An'  we  can  put  a  chair  in  it  —  We  can't 
turn  it  round  [regretfully],  but  we  got  it  in ! 

OLD  WOMAN 
It  must  be  a  wonderful  tree ! 

BILLY 

[drawing  nearer  and  confiding]  We've  had  a 
good  many  camps  in  these  woods.  Once  we  had 

6 


BILLY  BOY 


one  —  an'  we  made  a  door  to  it  —  a  real  door. 
An*  some  other  boys  found  it 

FRED 
An'  they  wrote  things  —  on  the  door 

[They  both  look  at  her  as  if  hoping  she  might 
understand  and  hoping  she  might  not. 


BILLY 

An*  we  tore  'em  off,  and  then  they  come  and 
tore  it  some  more  —  and  then  we  tore  it  — 
and  then  it  was  all  gone.  .  .  .  Like  enough 
we'll  find  some  boys  over  there  now  [glances 
off  R.}  when  we  get  ready  to  go. 

[Seats  himself  on  rock  near  OLD  WOMAN, 
but  with  back  to  her. 

FRED 

[who  has  been  fidgeting  and  watching  BILLY 
uneasily  as  he  confides  in  the  OLD  WOMAN]  Oh, 
come  on  to  the  camp ! 

BILLY 
I'm  goin'  to  stay  here.  I'm  not  in  any  hurry. 

FRED 

There  isn't  anything  to  do  here 

7 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

BILLY 

Well,  I  like  it  here,  and  I'm  goin*  to  stay ! 
[Does  not  look  at  the  OLD  WOMAN,  but  gazes 
impersonally  at  trees.  FRED  regards  him 
anxiously. 

OLD  WOMAN 

[to  FRED]  What  have  you  in  your  pocket  — 
that  sticks  out  so  ? 

FRED 
[diving  hand  in  pocket}   Horse-chestnuts. 

BILLY 
[leaping  to  feet]   I  got  a  string  six  feet  long ! 

OLD  WOMAN 

[doubtingly}  It  would  take  a  good  many 
horse-chestnuts  to  reach  six  feet  —  How  wide 
are  they  ?  An  inch  wide  ? 

FRED 
Not  more'n  half  an  inch.  [Produces  one. 

OLD  WOMAN 

[reaching  out  for  it  and  holding  it  in  hand,  turn 
ing  it  so  the  light  falls  on  it]  Oh,  how  beautiful ! 
—  how  beautiful  it  is! 

8 


BILLY  BOY 


BOTH 

[eagerly]   Do  you  want  some  more  ? 

OLD  WOMAN 

[shaking  head  and  handing  it  back]  But  what 
should  I  do  with  horse-chestnuts  ?  /  have  no 
pockets 

BILLY 
[pointing]   You  have  a  bag. 

OLD  WOMAN 

So  I  have 

[They  both  throw  chestnuts  into  her  lap  and 
she  looks  down  at  them,  smiling.  There  is 
a  kind  of  shamefaced  competition  in  their 
gestures. 

FRED 

[holding  out  a  tiny  one}  That's  the  littlest  one 
I  got.  You  may  have  it. 

[Tries  to  look  indifferent. 

OLD  WOMAN 
[taking  it}  Thank  you. 
9 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

BILLY 

[regretfully,  eying  it]   I  had  a  little  one  once 
—  no  bigger'n  a  button  —  but  I  lost  it. 

FRED 
Oh,  come  on  to  the  camp ! 

BILLY 

[imperturbable]   I  like  it  well  enough  here. 

[Fred  picks  up  a  stone  and  sends  it  whizzing 
over  the  trees.     They  watch  its  flight. 

OLD  WOMAN 
What  do  you  boys  think  about  war  ? 

BILLY 

My  father  says  it's  the  worst  war  die's  ever 
been 

FRED 

My  father  says 

OLD  WOMAN 

Would  you  like  to  have  all  the  fighting  in 
the  world  stopped  ? 

10 


BILLY  BOY 


BILLY 

You  bet !  [FRED  nods. 

OLD  WOMAN 
Don't  you  like  to  fight  ? 

BOTH 

[shaking  heads  hard}   No  ! 

OLD  WOMAN 

But  you  do  fight  ? 

BILLY 

[slowly,  considering  it]   Yes.  .  .  .      [Sits  down. 

FRED 

[quickly]   You  have  to  fight ! 

OLD  WOMAN 
But,  why  ? 

BILLY 
Oh  —  you  just  have  to ! 

OLD  WOMAN 
But  you  don't  like  it  ? 
ii 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

BOTH 

No,  sir! 

OLD  WOMAN 

Nor  to  see  other  boys?  [They  shake  heads 
violently.}  You  see,  they  are  talking  now  about 
doing  away  with  war  forever.  It  will  probably 
be  decided  about  the  time  you  boys  get  to  be 
men;  and  it  will  depend  a  good  deal  on  how  boys 

like  you  feel  about  it 

[They  regard  her  thoughtfully  and  a  little 
proudly. 

BILLY 

[sighs]  Well  —  You  just  have  to  fight  — 
sometimes 

OLD  WOMAN 
But  you  can't  tell  me  why  ? 

BILLY 

[shaking  head}  You  have  to !  [FRED  nods  as 
sent,  but  shamefacedly.  He  picks  up  another  stone 
and  hurls  it  over  tree.  BILLY  watches  the  flight 
with  half-jealous  eye.]  I  can't  throw,  'cause  I've 
hurt  my  arm. 

12 


BILLY  BOY 


FRED 

I'll  bet  I  can  send  one  over  that  maple  — 
You  see !  [Looks  for  stone.  Takes  chestnut  from 
pocket  and  hurls  it.  BILLY  gets  to  feet.  Throws 
chestnut  in  same  direction.}  I'll  bet  I  can  find 
that !  [Darts  off. 

BILLY 

[does  not  look  at  OLD  WOMAN,  but  moves  over 
and  sits  down  on  rock  close  to  her,  with  back  to 
her]  I  can't  throw  any.  I  hurt  my  arm. 

OLD  WOMAN 
I  thought  that  was  a  pretty  good  throw. 

BILLY 

'Twa'n't  anything  much ! 

[Reaches  down  for  something  on  ground. 
Holds  out  finger  with  caterpillar  crawling 
on  it. 

OLD  WOMAN 

A  caterpillar !  .  .  .  .  They  turn  into  butter 
flies —  if  you  keep  them  long  enough,  you  know ! 

BILLY 

[nodding   I  heard  about  that. 
13 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

OLD  WOMAN 
Did  you  ever  do  it  ? 

BILLY 

[shakes  head]  I  had  a  snake  once  and  I  had  a 
kitten  —  It  wasn't  a  very  good  kitten  —  It 
had  fits ! 

OLD  WOMAN 
What  a  pity ! 

BILLY 

Yes.  It  was  playin'  round  one  day  —  and  my 
mother  was  cleanin'  the  parlor  and  she  had  the 
rug  rolled  up  on  the  piazza;  and  this  had  one  — 
a  fit,  you  know  —  and  run  right  into  that  rug; 
and  mother  said  to  Mrs.  Sorley  —  she  was 
there  —  she  said,  "You  take  that  shawl  and 
I'll  shake  out  the  rug,"  and  she  did,  and  they 
threw  the  shawl  over  it;  and  then  mother  sent 
for  ten  cents'  worth  of  chloroform  to  the  drug 
store,  and  she  had  a  tub  of  water  all  ready  — 
and  so  they  done  it 

OLD  WOMAN 
A  tub  of  water ! 

BILLY 
Yes.  She  had  it  ready.  [He  sighs. 


BILLY  BOY 


OLD  WOMAN 
So  they  chloroformed  the  kitten 

BILLY 

[sighs]  That's  all  I  know.  I  was  to  school 
when  it  happened.  When  I  come  home  it  was 
all  over.  My  mother  showed  me  one  day  where 
they  buried  it  —  and  I  dug  it  up  —  I  thought 
I'd  like  to  see  how  it  looked  —  but  there  wasn't 
anything  there  except  just  the  sides  and  bot 
tom  of  a  box.  The'  wasn't  a  bone  —  not  a 
single  bone  of  that  kitten ! 

OLD  WOMAN 
Strange ! 

BILLY 
It  had  —  evaporated,  you  see. 

OLD  WOMAN 
But  it  does  seem  strange 


BILLY 

It  was  more'n  a  year  after,  I  guess  —  that 
I  did  the  digging.  It  had  all  evaporated,  you 
see 

is 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

FRED 

[darting  in]   I  found  it !       [Holds  out  chestnut. 

OLD  WOMAN 
Is  that  the  same  one  ? 

FRED 

Yes,  sir,  it  is !  Here  —  I'll  mark  one  and  he 
can  throw  it  and  then  you'll  see ! 

[Takes  chestnut  and  pounds  it  with  rock. 
BILLY  takes  one  from  pocket  and  bites  out 
a  piece.  Sends  it  whizzing  through  the  air. 

BILLY 
Find  that  if  you  can  ! 

FRED 

[who  has  been  looking  jealously  from  BILLY  to 
OLD  WOMAN]  I  don't  care  anything  about  — 
finding  it. 

[Comes  behind  them  and  blows  shrilly  be 
tween  fingers. 

OLD  WOMAN 

[putting  hands  to  ears]  You  will  make  me 
deaf  if  you  do  that ! 

[He  circles  around  and  gives  calls  that  bring 

16 


BILLY  BOY 


echoes  from  camping  boys.  Gives  another 
ear-splitting  yell. 

BILLY 

[in  the  tone  of  one  to  be  obeyed}  Fred,  you  quit 
that,  or  I'll  fix  you  —  [FRED  yells  again.  BILLY, 
very  mildy  but  grim,  not  looking  at  him.]  Fred, 
you  quit  that  or  I'll  fix  you. 

FRED 

[comes  around  rock  and  looks  at  BILLY  dis 
trustfully]  Oh,  come  on,  Billy !  What's  the  use 
of  staying  here  all  day  ? 

OLD  WOMAN 

[laughs,  looking  at  BILLY'S  back]  You'll  have 
to  lasso  him. 

BILLY 
He  couldn't  do  nothin' ! 

FRED 

[fairly  dances]   I  couldn't !  couldn't  I  ? 

BILLY 

No,  you  couldn't.  I'd  just  wind  it  once  around 
a  tree  and  then  you  couldn't  budge  it. 

17 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

FRED 

I'd  run  around  the  tree  —  the  other  way 
around  —  and  then  I'd  yank  you 

BILLY 

[imperturbable]  You  couldn't  do  nothin'. 
[FRED  moves  over  and  sits  on  rock,  squeezing 
in  between  OLD  WOMAN  and  BILLY. 
BILLY  bends  casually  to  pick  up  something 
and  FRED  hits  out  at  him  savagely.  The 
next  minute  they  have  squared  off  and  the 
fight  is  on.  The  OLD  WOMAN  watches  them 
with  keen  eyes.  There  are  broken  words 
and  heavily  drawn  breaths  and  feints  of 
sparring  —  a  thrust  or  two  —  and  FRED 
starts  for  home  through  the  trees  R. 

OLD  WOMAN 

[looking  after  him]  Oh  —  Fred  —  come  back  ! 
[He  walks  slowly,  not  looking  back.}  Oh,  Fred ! 
[To  BILLY.]  You  call  him! 

BILLY 

[feebly]  Oh  —  come  on  back  —  Fred  !  [No  re 
sponse.]  He  won't  come  for  me.  He's  mad  at  me ! 
[Sighs  and  sits  down  on  rock  by  OLD  WOMAN. 
She  looks  at  him  with  friendly,  quizzical 

18 


BILLY  BOY 


glance  and  he  bends  and  picks  up  the 
caterpillar.  Watches  it,  absorbed,  crawling 
on  his  hands. 

OLD  WOMAN 
It's  not  afraid  of  you  any  more,  you  see. 

BILLY 

[smiling  up  whimsically}  Kind'o'  got  used  to 
me 

OLD  WOMAN 

[nodding  Animals  know  —  even  worms  and 
crawling  things  —  they  can  enjoy  —  and  suffer. 

BILLY 

Once  I  saw  a  snake  —  when  me  and  some 
other  boys  was  going  up  Great  Hill.  You  ever 
been  up  Great  Hill  ? 

OLD  WOMAN 

No. 

BILLY 

Well,  we  were  going  up  there  one  day,  me 
and  some  other  boys,  and  we  see  a  snake  in 
the  road,  that  was  cut  right  in  two 

19 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

OLD  WOMAN 
How  horrid ! 

BILLY 

[nodding]  So  we  put  stones  on  him,  both 
parts  of  him,  so's  he  shouldn't  —  suffer. 

[Pie  gulps  a  little  shamefacedly  at  the  word. 

OLD  WOMAN 
Wasn't  he  dead ! 

BILLY 

No.  [Very  matter-of-course.}  So  we  covered 
him  with  stones  —  both  parts  of  him;  and 
when  we  come  back  —  maybe  it  was  two  hours 
later  —  he  was  just  through.  We  took  the 
stones  off  and  his  tail  give  one  last  yank  —  and 
that  was  all.  [Glances  behind  him  at  wood.}  It'll 
be  a  week  now  —  maybe  more  —  before  him 
and  me  get  over  that. 

OLD  WOMAN 
What  will  you  do  ? 

BILLY 

Oh,  I'll  have  to  make  up  somehow 

20 


BILLY  BOY 


OLD  WOMAN 
Yes  —  How  will  you  do  it  ? 

BILLY 
I  do*  no*.  I'll  give  him  something,  like  enough. 

OLD  WOMAN 
What  do  you  suppose  you'll  give  him  ? 

BILLY 

Oh,  I  do*  no'  —  'most  anything.  Maybe 
I'll  just  holler  out  to  him  or  something  like 

that 

OLD  WOMAN 

Did  you  ever  have  a  fight  with  him  before  ? 

BILLY 

We're  always  havin'  'em.  [Looks  ashamed  and 
hesitates.]  Had  one  fight  already  this  morning. 

OLD  WOMAN 
What  about  ? 

BILLY 

Oh  — nothin'.  .  .  .  [Sighs.]  We  shall  make 
it  up  all  right.  [Indignant.]  But  I  didn't  do 
nothin' — just  picked  up  a  stone,  and  he 

21 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

snatched  it  right  away,  just  like  that !  Now, 
what  did  he  want  to  go  snatching  that  stone 
for  ?  [Shakes  head.  OLD  WOMAN  shakes  head.] 
He's  hidin'  over  there  in  the  woods,  maybe 

OLD  WOMAN 
They're  great  woods  to  hide  in. 

BILLY 

[eyes  lighting  We  come  here  every  day 
'most. 

OLD  WOMAN 
Do  you  ever  come  up  at  night  ? 

BILLY 
I've  been  here  late  —  late  as  seven  o'clock. 

OLD  WOMAN 
It  is  not  dark  at  seven. 

BILLY 

In  the  winter  it  is  —  dark  and  snow,  and  you 
have  to  make  a  track  —  [Looking  behind  him.} 
Him  and  me  has  been  friends  an  awful  long 
time 

22 


BILLY  BOY 


OLD  WOMAN 
How  long  ? 

BILLY 

Oh  —  as  much  as  —  four  years  I  should 
think. 

OLD  WOMAN 

It's  old  friends  like  that  that  we  care  a  lot 
for. 

BILLY 

Yes  —  [Sighs.]  Oh,  we  shall  make  it  up  some 
how —  He  won't  speak  to  me  —  you  see! 
[Silent  a  minute.]  Now,  what  did  he  want  to  go 
snatching  that  stone  for  ?  He  did  it  just  like 
that! 

OLD  WOMAN 

Well,  you  know  he  didn't  really  want  to  stay, 
anyway. 

BILLY 

He  stays  when  anything's  going  on.  I'll  say, 
"Come  on,"  and  he'll  say:  "Just  a  minute, 
wait  just  a  minute  while  I  see  this."  He's  al 
ways  doin*  it! 

23 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

OLD  WOMAN 

Yes,  he's  the  kind  of  boy  that  likes  to  be 
where  things  are  going  on.  I  could  see  that. 
[BiLLY  is  absorbed  in  caterpillar.  OLD  WOMAN 
leans  over  and  puts  pen  in  his  track.}  He's  afraid 
of  that,  you  see. 

BILLY 
He  isn't  used  to  it. 

OLD  WOMAN 

Who  told  you  about  their  turning  into  but 
terflies  ? 

BILLY 
M'  teacher. 

OLD  WOMAN 
Do  you  like  to  go  to  school  ? 

BILLY 

You  just  bet  I  don't!  I'd  stop  to-day  and 
never  go  again  —  if  I  could  ! 

OLD  WOMAN 
What  would  you  do  ? 

BILLY 

I'd  go  to  work  —  I'd  do  anything! 
24 


BILLY  BOY 


OLD  WOMAN 

I  suppose  one  has  to  learn  to  read  and  write 
—  or  he'd  be  just  a  savage. 

BILLY 

[regretfully  and  thoughtfully]  I  can't  write 
very  well  —  some  way  I  cant!  [Face  lights.]  I 
tell  you  what  I'd  like!  I'd  like  to  have  a  little 
house  just  on  the  edge  of  a  big  woods  —  a 
forest,  you  know  —  and  I'd  like  to  live  in  it  al 
ways,  with  the  woods  right  close  behind  me. 

OLD  WOMAN 

Yes  —  I've    often    thought    I    should    like 

that 

[They  look  at  each  other  under  standingly. 

BILLY 

You  could  see  everything,  you  know,  miles 
and  miles  in  front  —  and  the  woods  right  close  ? 

OLD  WOMAN 
Yes  —  I  know. 

BILLY 

[sits  a  little  closer  to  her}  You  don't  live 
around  here,  do  you  ? 

25 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

OLD  WOMAN 
No  —  I  live  —  a  long  way  off. 

BILLY 

[Figure  of  man  seen  through  trees.  BILLY  half 
starts,  fright  in  his  eye.  OLD  WOMAN'S  gaze  fol 
lows  his.  He  half  whispers]  That  man's  got  it  in 
for  me ! 

OLD  WOMAN 

Who  is  he  ? 

BILLY 

He's  janitor  over  to  the  high  school,  and 
some  of  us  boys,  you  know,  the  other  day  was 
climbing  up  half-way  on  the  building,  on  the 

outside 

OLD  WOMAN 

What  were  you  doing  that  for  ? 

BILLY 

Oh  —  just  for  fun  —  and  he  came  out  and 
chased  us;  and  he  told  me  if  he  caught  me,  he'd 
skin  me  alive.  .  .  . 

OLD  WOMAN 

Do  you  suppose  he  knows  who  you  are  ? 
26 


BILLY  BOY 


BILLY 

Oh,    yes,    he    knows;    he    knows    m'    father. 
[Still  following  the  figure  with  watchful  eye.}  I've 
got  a  fight  on  with  him  all  right !  [Little  pause  in 
which  he  sits  close  to  her.  Looks  up.]  Seems's  if 
everybody  had  a  fight  on  with  me  —  round  here  ! 
[Half  ashamed,  half  hoping  she  will  under 
stand. 

OLD  WOMAN 

[reflectively,  as  if  seeing  something^  It's  funny 
about  men.  They  do  things  when  they  are  boys 
—  I  don't  doubt  he  did  just  the  kind  of  thing 
you  were  doing,  when  he  was  a  boy  —  and  then 
when  they  grow  up,  they  seem  to  forget  every 
thing. 

BILLY 

Hi !  I'll  remember  that  to  tell  him  —  next 
time  he  chases  me ! 

OLD  WOMAN 

I  wonder  what  time  it  is  ?  It  must  be  twelve 
o'clock,  if  the  janitor  is  going  home. 

BILLY 

He  goes  half-past  eleven  some  days. 

[Whistle  heard  blowing. 
27 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

OLD  WOMAN 

It  is  twelve  o'clock.  I  must  go.  [Stands  up.] 
I've  had  a  very  pleasant  morning. 

BILLY 

So  have  I! 

OLD  WOMAN 

[looking  at  him  and  speaking  casually}  I  don't 
suppose  we  shall  ever  see  each  other  again 

BILLY 

[who  has  been  gazing  at  side  of  rock  where  she 
was  sitting,  points  to  it]  There's  another! 

OLD  WOMAN 

[looking  down}  Another  caterpillar !  So  there 
is.  [She  takes  it  up.}  It  would  be  rather  good 
fun,  wouldn't  it  —  since  there  are  two  of  them 
—  to  each  take  one  and  see  if  they  really  do 
turn  into  butterflies. 

BILLY 

And  you  can  have  this  one  I've  got  kind  o' 
tame;  and  I'll  take  the  other  and  get  him  used 
to  me.  [They  exchange  caterpillars.  The  OLD 
WOMAN  wraps  hers  in  a  piece  of  tissue-paper  and 

28 


BILLY  BOY 


puts  it  in  her  black  bag.  BILLY  watches  her  soberly.] 
When  are  you  going  to  that  place  —  where  you 
live  ? 

OLD  WOMAN 
I  don't  know  —  a  few  days  —  perhaps. 

BILLY 

[looks  about  him,  trying  to  appear  indifferent] 
Do  you  suppose  you  will  come  to  these  woods 
again  ? 

OLD  WOMAN 

I  don't  know.  It  depends  on  so  many  things, 
you  know  —  on  whether  it  rains,  and  on  the 
wind  and  the  sun.  Well,  good-by !  [They  wander 
apart,  the  boy  looking  down  at  the  caterpillar  he 
carries  in  his  hand.  The  OLD  WOMAN  stops  to 
look  back]  I  hope  you'll  make  up  with  Fred  all 
right.  Why  don't  you  do  it  to-day  ? 

BILLY 
I  guess  I  will. 

[He  looks  at  her  gravely  and  moves  away  R. 
The  OLD  WOMAN  moves  a  step  L.  and  looks 
back;  the  boy  does  not  turn.  She  smiles  and 
lifts  her  arms  with  a  quick,  freeing  gesture; 
the  black  garments  fall  away  and  reveal 
29 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

white,  filmy  stuff  beneath  —  a  kind  of  but 
terfly  lightness  in  it.  The  brightness  grows 
about  her  and  she  steals  after  him,  throw 
ing  kisses  that  turn  into  butterflies  and 
circle  about  the  dirty,  unkempt  boy,  going 
slowly  and  looking  down  at  the  caterpillar 
in  his  hand. 

CURTAIN 


ACT  II 

ALLEGRO 

THE  MOTHER 


CHARACTERS 

A  MOTHER. 
NORMAN,  her  son. 
JAMIE,  younger  son. 
VIOLA  CARLTON. 


ACT  II 

SCENE:  A  homelike  sitting-room,  with  flowering 
plants  here  and  there,  but  no  knick knacks; 
two  French  windows  at  rear,  opening  on  to 
garden.  Dusk  outside.  At  right  of  win 
dows,  a  door  leads  to  hall  with  staircase. 
Centre  of  room,  table  with  droplight;  back 
of  table,  facing  front,  a  straight  chair;  L. 
of  table,  a  deep  couch;  R.  of  table,  two  easy 
chairs  and  a  low  seat.  Wood  fire  burning 
in  fireplace,  at  right.  Near  fireplace,  front, 
a  door.  L.  wall,  a  desk,  covered  with  loose 
papers  and  bills.  Woman  seated  at  desk, 
sorting  and  filing  bills  and  making  out 
checks. 

Through  open  door  at  rear,  young  man  seen  de 
scending  staircase.  He  pauses  in  doorway 
and  stands  looking  at  woman — one  hand  is 
thrust  into  the  pocket  of  his  coat;  in  the 
other  he  carries  a  hat  and  gloves.  He  comes 
to  table  and  puts  down  hat.  Looks  at  woman 
and  hesitates  as  if  making  up  his  mind  to 
something  difficult;  moves  toward  fire. 

33 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

MOTHER 
Is  that  you,  Norman  ? 

NORMAN 
Yes,  mother. 

MOTHER 

I'm  so  glad  you've  come.  I  want  to  ask  you 
something.  [Gets  up,  still  looking  at  paper  on 

desk.}  Something  I  have  just  heard 

[He  starts,  and  looks  at  her  anxiously.  She 
turns  and  comes  toward  him,  smiling. 

MOTHER 

Do  you  think  I  had  better  order  more  coal  — 
the  paper  says  —  [Stops,  and  looks  at  him.] 
You're  not  going  out  again  to-night  ? 

NORMAN 
Yes  —  I  have  —  to  go  ... 

MOTHER 

You  will  need  your  bag  then 

[She  starts  toward  door,  but  he  detains  her. 

NORMAN 

I  will  see  to  my  bag,  mother.  ...  I  packed 
it  —  partly  —  before  I  came  down. 

34 


THE   MOTHER 


MOTHER 

You  packed  it !  [She  looks  at  him,  smiling.] 
Why,  what  has  come  over  the  boy !  To  pack 
his  bag  —  himself! 

NORMAN 

[who  has  been  fidgeting  about  the  room,  glances 
at  desk]  You  were  busy.  ...  I  just  looked  in 
to  —  say  —  good-by. 

MOTHER 

[in  a  low  voice,  looking  at  him]  To  say  good- 
by  !  [Moves  a  step  nearer]  What  is  it,  Norman  ? 
You  are  keeping  —  something  —  from  me  ! 
Why  are  you  going  ?  Is  it  business  ? 

NORMAN 

[waits  a  minute]    Business.  No 


MOTHER 

[going  close  to  him]   What  is  it  ? 

NORMAN 

[starts  to  turn  away.  Looks  at  her  as  if  making 
up  his  mind.  Throws  gloves  on  table]  Trouble  — 
mother  !  For  me  —  and  trouble  for  you  ! 

35 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

MOTHER 

Trouble  —  oh  !  Sit  down  ! 

[She  comes  over  to  him  and  presses  him  to 
ward  chair  R.  front,  by  fire. 

NORMAN 

[reluctantly  sits  down}  I'd  rather  face  it  stand 
ing,  I  think. 

MOTHER 

[laughs  a  little  tremulously^  and  sits  down  in 
front  of  fire]  We'll  save  our  strength  -  -  [Leans 
toward  him.}  Now  —  tell  me 

NORMAN 
I'm  —  I  —   Hang  it,  mother,  I  can't ! 

MOTHER 

[she  is  looking  at  him  intently}  How  old  is 
she? 

NORMAN 
[starts}   How  old ? 

MOTHER 

[smiling  Yes  —  the  woman  —  There  is  a 
woman  .  .  .  ? 

36 


THE   MOTHER 


NORMAN 

Yes.  ...  I  don't  know  how  old  she  is.  She 
seems  —  sometimes  —  like  —  a  child  .  .  .  and 
then,  again,  I  think  she  is  older  than  the 
hills  —  older  than  the  world  —  and  the  stars 
—  the  farthest  star ! 

MOTHER 

[softly]  Yes  —  she  is  a  woman.  .  .  .  Do  I 
know  her  —  my  son  ? 

NORMAN 
No.  .  .  .  You  will  never  know  her,  mother. 

MOTHER 

Oh  — !  [She  has  started  to  her  feet  and  is  look 
ing  down  at  him.]  Tell  me !  Tell  me  —  every 
thing !  [Takes  hold  of  his  arm.]  How  long  have 
you  known  her  ? 

NORMAN 

[looking  at  floor}  Six  months  —  a  year  —  I 
don't  know. 

MOTHER 

Where  did  you  meet  her  ? 
37 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

NORMAN 

[thinking]  At  the  Rodmans',  a  year  ago  —  at 
their  house-party  -  -  She  was  there  with  her 
husband  —  Robert  Carlton. 

MOTHER 

[under  her  breath]   Her  —  husband! 

NORMAN 

Then  I  saw  her  —  a  dozen  places  —  we  were 
always  meeting—-  But  I  did  not  dream  —  and 
I  thought  she  was  frightfully  pretty,  you 
know ? 

MOTHER 
Yes  —  I  know 

NORMAN 
And  then  —  one  day  —  I  knew. 

MOTHER 
My  poor  boy ! 

NORMAN 

[straightens  himselj  a  little]  So  to-night  I  am 
off [Stands  up. 

38 


THE   MOTHER 


MOTHER 

[moves  toward  him]  You  are  going  —  with 
her? 

NORMAN 
[firmly]   Yes. 

MOTHER 
She  has  no  children  —  then ? 

NORMAN 
Two  —  little  chaps 

MOTHER 

Two  little  children  —  [Holds  out  her  hands.} 
Norman ! 

NORMAN 

[looks  away]  She'll  have  to  leave  them,  of 
course.  The  law  wouldn't  let  her  take  them. 
She  will  have  to  give  them  up,  first  or  last  — 
and  better  first !  We  will  make  a  clean  break ! 

MOTHER 

She  will  not  leave  her  children ! 
39 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

NORMAN 

[looking  at  her]  She  has  left  them  already  — 
an  hour  ago  —  I  have  had  a  despatch  from  her, 
and  the  train  reaches  here  at  seven-thirty. 

MOTHER 
Where  are  you  going  ? 

NORMAN 

To  some  hotel,  I  suppose.  .  .  .  I'd  rather 
not  tell  you  where  —  mother  —  we  don't  want 
scenes 

MOTHER 

No  —  we  —  don't  want  scenes  —  that's 
right ! 

NORMAN 

I  wouldn't  have  told  you  —  at  all  —  only  it 
seemed  so  sneaking  not  to  —  To  go  away  — 
without  a  word  .  .  .  and  I've  always  told 
you  —  everything 

MOTHER 

Yes  —  of  course  —  you  did  quite  right  —  to 
tell   me.    [Smiling.]   It's   a   little   sudden.  .  .  . 
[Glances  at  clock.]  You  ought  to  see  about  your 
40 


THE  MOTHER 


bag,  oughtn't  you  ?  Be  sure  to  come  and  say  — 
good-by  —  before  you  go.         [She  turns  away. 

NORMAN 

[comes  over  and  kisses  her]  Of  course,  I  shall 
say  good-by,  mother.  Do  you  know  you  are  a 
trump  ! 

MOTHER 

Yes  —  I'm  —  a  trump  —  I  know 

[Pushes  him  gently  toward  door.  He  goes  out. 
She  turns  away  with  quick  gesture  —  walks 
rapidly  across  the  room,  straight  toward  the 
opposite  wall,  L.,  runs  into  it  and  halts 
abruptly  —  turns  back,  picks  up  gloves  on 
table  and  looks  at  them  intently  —  puts 
them  down,  laughs  a  little,  and  rubs  hand 
across  eyes.  Goes  over  to  fire  and  stands 
looking  down  into  it.  .  .  .  Turns  away 
slowly  and  moves  toward  table,  sits  down 
in  chair  at  back  of  table,  facing  audience, 
catches  breath  —  buries  face  in  hands.  .  .  . 
Door  R.  opens,  boy  of  thirteen  rushes  in. 

BOY 

I  say  —  mummie  !  [Stops  short  —  clinches 
fists  —  speaks  fiercely.}  Who's  been  hurting  you  ! 

41 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

[MOTHER  lifts  her  face,  laughing.]  You're  laugh 
ing  !  [She  nods.]  And  I  thought  you  were  crying  ! 
[Comes  over  and  kisses  her.]  And  you  were  just 
laughing ! 

MOTHER 
Yes. 

BOY 

[looks  at  her  again]  What  were  you  sitting 
that  way  for  ? 

MOTHER 
I  was  —  just  —  trying  —  to  be  wise 

BOY 

And  I  thought  you  were  crying !  .  .  .  I  wish 
you  would  be  wise  for  these  beastly  old  sums, 
mummie.  .  .  .  See  what  he's  given  us  —  old 
Bartlett.  7  can't  do  'em.  [Tugs  at  book  in  satchel 
slung  on  shoulder  —  turns  leaves  rapidly]  That 
—  and  that  —  and  that  —  and  that!  —  and 
just  listen,  what  rot.  ...  "A  man  buys  a  field 
for  twenty  pounds,  and  rents  it  for  six  weeks 
at  ten  shillings  a  week  —  and  for  three  weeks 
at  six  shillings  a  week.  He  then  finds  that  he 
has  lost  sixteen  shillings  on  his  former  invest 
ment.  What  was  his  previous  rate  of  interest  ?" 

42 


THE  MOTHER 


Now,  how  can  /  ever  do  that !  What  does  it 
mean,  anyway  ?  Why  can't  they  teach  us  some 
of  the  things  we'll  need  to  use  when  we  get 
out  of  their  old  school  ? 

MOTHER 

Why  can't  they,  indeed  !  Let  me  see  —  [Takes 
book  and  reads  it  thoughtfully.}  This  is  a  hard 
one,  Jamie.  I  shall  have  to  work  on  it.  .  .  . 
[Goes  to  desk  for  pencil.}  And  while  I'm  thinking, 
would  you  mind  running  and  asking  Margaret 
to  make  up  the  middle  room  for  a  guest?  The 
middle  one,  you  know  —  the  one  between 
Norman  and  me 

BOY 
Yes,  mummie.  [Starts  off.}  Who's  coming  ? 

MOTHER 

[absently  —  apparently  studying  problem}  A 
friend  of  Norman's  —  a  friend  of  mine  - 

BOY 
Do  I  know  him  ? 

MOTHER 

It's  not  a  man 

43 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 
BOY 

A  woman !  That's  jolly,  isn't  it,  mummie ! 
I'll  tell  her  !  [Goes  out  door  back  of  stage. 

MOTHER 

[reads  problem  aloud  in  a  lifeless,  monotonous 
voice ',  fixing  attention  on  it  sternly] 

BOY 

[enters  at  back}  Norman  can't  come  to  your 
room  to  say  good  morning  —  if  you  put  her  in 
the  middle  room,  can  he  ? 

MOTHER 

No  —  we  shall  have  to  give  that  up  —  for 
the  present. 

BOY 

[hesitating  a  minute}  She  could  have  my 
room,  the  other  side  of  yours  —  I  wouldn't 
mind 

MOTHER 

[rumpling  his  hair  a  little  and  smiling  You 
won't  have  to  give  it  up.  See  —  this  is  what 
you  have  to  find  .  .  .  the  rate  of  interest  on 
twenty  pounds.  Then  you  add  these  —  and 
these.  .  .  . 

44 


THE  MOTHER 


BOY 

[mumbles  a  little  and  nods  wisely]  All  right, 
mummie,  don't  you  bother  any  more  —  I'll  try  it. 

[Sighs  a  little  and  wets  pencil  in  mouth  — 
pushes  up  sleeves  and  attacks  problem. 
MOTHER  goes  over  and  sits  down  by  fire. 

BOY 

[begins  to  read}  "And  rents  it  for  6  weeks  at 
10  shillings  — "  m  —  m  —  m 

MOTHER 

[with  her  back  to  him]  You  begin  with  the 
twenty  pounds,  you  know. 

BOY 

[savagely]  "A  man  buys  a  field  for  twenty 
pounds  — "  [Puts  down  figures  and  begins  work 
ing]  Twenty  pounds  —  that's  a  hundred  dol 
lars,  is  it,  mummie  ? 

MOTHER 

[absently]   Yes 

BOY 

[looks  at  her  suspiciously]  Two  hundred,  isn't 
it? 

45 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

MOTHER 
Yes  —  I  guess  so. 

BOY 

Ah  —  ha  !  I  thought  so  !  [Looks  at  her  severely.] 
You  weren't  paying  attention  !  You'd  'a'  said 
it  was  a  thousand  —  if  I'd  kept  on  —  [Figures 
a  little.}  I  say  —  that's  the  right  answer ! 

MOTHER 

[with  her  back  to  him,  looking  in  fire]  I 
thought  it  would  come  if  you  worked  on  it 

BOY 

Now,  I'll  have  to  finish  the  rest  up-stairs  — 
You  and  Norm  always  do  such  a  lot  of  talk 
ing  —  I  can't  work  down  here.  [Goes  toward 
door.}  He'll  be  along  in  a  minute,  won't  he  ? 

MOTHER 
He's  going  to  meet  —  his  friend. 

BOY 
Then  they'll  be  back  soon  ? 

MOTHER 
Yes  —  if  she  comes  - 


THE   MOTHER 


BOY 

[staring]   You  said  she  was  coming ! 

MOTHER 
[after  a  minute]   She  may  go  to  a  hotel 


BOY 

I  hope  she'll  come  here  —  don't  you  ? 

MOTHER 
Yes  —  I  hope  so 

BOY 

[going   out  —  stops   short]   I    say  —  you'll   be 
lonely  down  here  —  won't  you  ? 

MOTHER 
Not  a  bit 

BOY 

Sure  ?    'Cause    I     could     bring    my    things 
down  [Glances  at  table. 

MOTHER 

Run  along !  I  don't  mind  being  left  alone. 
47 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 
BOY 

All  right.  I'll  come  —  soon  as  I've  done  — 
[Opens  door.]  Here's  Norm,  now !  [Goes  out. 

[Enter  NORMAN. 

MOTHER 

[without  looking  up]  Are  you  ready  ? 

NORMAN 

[coming  R.  front,  to  fire]  All  ready. 

[They  are  silent  a  minute.  She  looks  up  at 
him  and  smiles. 

MOTHER 
Well-    -? 

NORMAN 

{speaking  without  interest  —  to  fill  awkward 
pause]  I  heard  Jamie  telling  Margaret  to  make 
up  the  middle  room.  Is  some  one  coming  ? 

MOTHER 
Yes. 

NORMAN 
[carelessly]  Who  is  it  ? 


THE  MOTHER 


MOTHER 

What  is  her  name,  Norman  —  what  do  you 
call  her  ? 

NORMAN 
[stares  a  little}  Call  her?  —  Oh  —  Viola 

MOTHER 

[nodding]  She  is  coming  —  I  hope  —  Viola  is 
coming [Catches  breath,  watching  him. 

NORMAN 

[staring  down  at  her]  Here  — !  To  this  house  ! 

She  shall  never  come !  It  is  not  respec 

[Breaks  off,  biting  lip,  staring  at  her. 

MOTHER 

[smiling  to  him]  Can  I  not  invite  Mrs.  Carlton 
to  visit  me?  Can  I  not  have  Viola  Carlton  here, 
as  my  guest?  [He  moves  across  the  room,  think 
ing.]  For  a  long  visit.  .  .  .  [She  watches  him.] 
Why  should  we  ruin  all  our  lives  because  we 
cannot  see  everything  alike  in  one  night.  .  .  . 
Some  way  will  surely  be  found  —  if  we  do  our 
best 

49 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

NORMAN 

[comes  back  and  stands  near  her,  looking  down] 
You  understand  how  she  will  come  ? 

MOTHER 
Yes. 

NORMAN 

You    have    thought    of   it    all  —  and    of  — 
Jamie  ? 

MOTHER 
Yes- 

NORMAN 
You  will  not  like  it 


MOTHER 

I  do  not  expect  to  like  it,  Norman  —  at  first 

—  perhaps.  We  none  of  us  like  what  has  hap 
pened  to  us  —  it  seems  to  have  been  thrust 
upon  us.  ...  Now  the  test  is,  whether  we  do 
the  best  we  can.  .  .  . 

NORMAN 

[half  to  himself]  There  isn't  any  best  for  us 

—  for  a  thing  like  this! 

50 


THE   MOTHER 


MOTHER 

But  there  must  be  —  good,  better,  best.  .  .  . 
There  must  be  a  best.  It  is  not  the  first  time 
such  a  thing  has  happened,  you  know ! 

NORMAN 
It  never  happened  to  me  before ! 

MOTHER 

No  —  but  it  might  have  happened  —  long 
ago.  It  happens  to  every  man 


NORMAN 

[staring  at  her]  To  every  man  ? 

MOTHER 

Did  you  think  you  were  the  only  one  —  or 
that  you  would  be  spared  —  falling  in  love? 

NORMAN 

[bitterly]  I  expected  to  fall  in  love  as  I  should 
—  properly ! 

MOTHER 

And  you  haven't !  .  .  .  So  now  we  must 
make  the  best  of  it  —  and  you  will  bring  her 
home. 

51 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

NORMAN 

[looking    about    him]  Here  —  to    your    home 
.  .  .  ?  I  cannot  do  it. 

MOTHER 
But  you  will.  .  .  . 

NORMAN 
She  will  not  come. 

MOTHER 

Ask  her.  Tell  her  —  [Stands  up.]  Tell  her  — 
7  —  want  her  —  to  come. 

NORMAN 

[takes  her  hands  and  kisses  them]  I  will  bring 

her,  mother  —  if —  she  will  come 

[Goes  out. 

MOTHER 

[moves  a  step,  and  calls  after  him,  her  hand  at  her 
throat] 

NORMAN 
[turns  back]  What  is  it,  mother  ? 

52 


THE  MOTHER 


MOTHER 

Tell  Jamie  to  bring  his  books  down  here,  to 
study. 

NORMAN 

All  right,  mother  —  [He  comes  over  to  her,L.  C.] 
You  are  sure  you  want  —  this  —  mother  ? 

MOTHER 

Sure !  Haven't  I   been  begging  you !  Hurry 
now  —  you  will  be  late  —  Good  luck  to  you  ! 
[She  goes  to  door  and  nods  after  him.  Turns 
back  to  room  and  stands,  with  head  a  little 
bent,  thinking. 

BOY 

[hurries  in,  with  armful  of  books.  Throws  free 
arm  about  her  and  hugs  her  along  beside  him  as 
he  crosses  to  table.  Triumphant}  I  thought  you 
wouldn't  like  being  left  alone ! 

[Establishes  himself  at  table;  she  takes  piece 
of  embroidery  from  drawer  and  sits  down 
by  fire.  Works  a  minute  and  hands  fall  idle. 

BOY 

[not  looking  at  her]  I  say,  mummie,  what's  her 
name ? 

S3 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

MOTHER 
[starts]  Oh!  — Viola  - 

BOY 

That's  a  corker !  Viola  —  sort  of  music-like. 
.  .  .  [Works  a  little}  I  think  I  shall  like  her ! 

MOTHER 
[taking  up  work]  I  hope  so. 

BOY 

[works  a  jew  minutes]  Funny,  I  never  heard 
about  her  —  you  never  said  anything  about  her 
before  —  did  you  ?  I  suppose  she's  an  old  friend 
—  the  long-ago  kind 

MOTHER 
You'd  better  do  your  work 

BOY 

[returns  to  sums]  What's  her  other  name  ? 

MOTHER 
Oh  !  —  Carlton 


BOY 

Miss  Viola  Carlton.  [Scribbles  name  on  paper.] 
Looks  very  nice !  [Holds  it  at  arm's  length. 

54 


THE   MOTHER 


MOTHER 
[after  a  minute]  Her  name  is  Mrs.  Carlton. 

BOY 
Oh,  dear! 

MOTHER 

[turns  and  looks  at  him]  What  is  the  matter  ? 

BOY 

I'd  got  it  all  made  up  —  how  she  looks  — 
and  now  you've  been  and  married  her 

MOTHER 

7  didn't  marry  her.  [Glances  at  books.}  Don't 
you  think  you'd  better  go  up-stairs  perhaps ? 

BOY 

I'll    work    down    here  —  honest  —  you    see. 
Say,  mummie  —  just  one  more ? 

MOTHER 
[smiling]  Well ? 

BOY 
What  kind  of  children  has  she  got  ? 

55 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

MOTHER 

Children  ?  [A  little  look  of  pain  in  her  face] 
Who  said  she  had  children  ? 

BOY 

Of  course  she  has  'em.    She's  married  —  you 
said. 

MOTHER 

Oh  —  yes.  .  .  .  She  has  two  —  little  boys. 

[Sits  looking  before  her. 

BOY 

[sighs]  I  wish  she'd  bring  'em  along.  [Begins 
to  work.]  I  suppose  I  couldn't  ask  just  one  —  ? 
[Looks  at  her,  but  she  does  not  answer.  She  is  star 
ing  into  the  fire.  He  looks  a  minute  and  gets  up 
and  comes  over  to  her.}  You  all  right,  mummie  ? 
[She  looks  at  him  vacantly  a  minute  and  he  stoops 
down  and  strokes  her  face.}  There  isn't  something 
the  matter  with  you  —  something  I  don't  know 
about ? 

MOTHER 

No,  dear!  Hurry  and  get  your  work  done 
before  they  come 

56 


THE  MOTHER 


BOY 

It's  'most  done.  See  what  I  learned  to-day. 

[Turns  a  back  somersault. 

MOTHER 
Jamie !  [Laughs  a  little  hysterically. 

BOY 

[righting  himself,  and  sitting  up  on  the  floor, 
grinning  at  her]  I  thought  you  could  laugh  if  you 
wanted  to ! 

MOTHER 

Yes  —  youVe  done  it.  Now  go  to  work 

BOY 

[listens]   Hush  !  They're  coming ! 

[Darts  to  door  and  takes  hold  of  knob,  opening 
it  softly  and  moving  back  with  it,  conceal 
ing  himself  behind  it. 

[ViOLA  CARLTON  appears  in  the  open  door 
way  —  very  beautiful  and  naive  and  young. 
MOTHER  goes  toward  her. 

NORMAN 

[behind  VIOLA,  L.]  I  have  brought  her  home, 
mother 

57 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

MOTHER 

I  am  so  glad  you  have  come.  [Takes  her  hands.] 
And  I  may  —  kiss  you  —  ?  [Draws  her  to  her.} 
And  here  is  my  other  boy  —  Jamie.  [Looks  about 
her.]  Where  are  you  ! 

BOY 

[coming  from  behind  door  and  holding  out  hand] 
We  are  jolly  glad  youVe  come ! 

VIOLA 

[taking  handy  a  little  dazed]  I  am  glad  —  I 
came. 

BOY 

We  were  afraid  you  would  go  to  a  hotel, 
you  know ! 

VIOLA 

[stares  at  him,  as  if  afraid  of  something]  Were 
you ? 

BOY 

[nods]  It  would  have  been  beastly  to  go  to  a 
hotel  —  when  we  were  all  wanting  you  to  come 
here  —  wouldn't  it  ? 


THE   MOTHER 


VIOLA 

It  would  have  been  —  beastly  —  yes 

[She  shivers  a  little,  turning  toward  fire,  and 
he  places  chair  for  her. 


MOTHER 

[taking  her  arm  gently]  You  would  like  to  go 
to  your  room,  I  know ? 

VIOLA 

Oh  —  please  —  [Voice  catches  a  little.]  I  am 
tired  —  I  think. 

NORMAN 

[who  has  been  standing  L.  C.  watching  the  two 
women,  opens  door  for  them] 

MOTHER 

[taking  her  hand]  Come  —  you  shall  rest  a 
little.  [Looks  at  BOY  and  smiles]  You  will  have 
a  chance  to  finish  your  sums  now. 

BOY 

[resigned]  Yes  —  mummie  ! 

[Goes  over  to  table  as  they  go  out. 

[NoRMAN  stands  in  door  a  minute  looking 

after  them  as  they  ascend  staircase.  Closes 

59 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

door  gently  and  walks  over  to  fire,  standing 
with  back  to  it,  looking  before  him  sternly. 

BOY 

[running  leaves  of  book   through  fingers}  It's 
jolly  good,  she  came,  isn't  it ! 

NORMAN 

[absently  —  and    looking    very    grave]  Yes  — 
quite  jolly. 

BOY 

[looking  up}  You  don't  say  that  very  jolly, 
you  know ! 

NORMAN 
No  —  ?  I'm  tired  —  hard  day  —  business. 

BOY 

[sighing}  Same  with  me  !  [Attacks  sums. 

NORMAN 

[smiling  a  little}  Aren't  you  rather  late  with 
yours  ? 

BOY 

[confidentially]  You  never  saw  such  rot !  Did 
you  have  the  same  ones,  I  wonder  —  when  you 

60 


THE  MOTHER 


went  to  school  ?  [Picks  up  book  and  comes  over 
to  fire.]  All  about  hiring  a  field,  you  know,  and 
putting  in  cows  and  things  and  not  making 
more  than  two  per  cent  or  something  —  if  you 
didn't  look  out ! 

NORMAN 
[glancing  at  book]  No  —  mine  was  a  red  book. 

BOY 

[with  interest]  Did  you  learn  anything  out  of 
a  red  one  —  anything  about  what  you're  doing 
now? 

NORMAN 
[dully]  No.  ... 

BOY 

[face  falling]  I  say !  [Goes  back  to  table,  puts 
book  down  hard.]  When  7  grow  up,  I'm  going  to 
make  some  books  that  mean  something  —  you 
see  if  I  don't !  [Looking  at  him]  Isn't  she  stun 
ning,  Norman? 

NORMAN 

[starting  guiltily]  Who  —  I  —  what  —  did  you 
say  ? 

61 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 
BOY 

Viola  —  Mrs.  Carlton  —  Don't  you  think 
she's  stunning  ?  7  think  she's  just  ripping,  you 
know !  Her  eyes  look  at  you  so  nice !  [NORMAN 
is  silent.}  Don't  you  think  she's  stunning  ? 

NORMAN 
Yes  —  I  think  —  she  is  —  stunning 


BOY 
[contentedly]  So  do  // 

NORMAN 
You've  got  your  work  done,  I  suppose ? 

BOY 

Bother ! 

[Door  opens  back  of  stage  and  two  women 
come  in.  BOY  darts  from  table  and  puts 
chair  for  VIOLA  R.  front.  NORMAN  puts 
one  for  MOTHER  opposite  fireplace.  Seats 
himself  near  her,  where  he  can  look  at 
VIOLA  without  seeming  to.  BOY  seats  him 
self  on  low  stool  near  her,  puts  elbows  on 
knees  and  gazes  up  at  her  shyly.  A  little 
awkward  pause. 

62 


THE   MOTHER 


MOTHER 

[taking  up  embroidery]  You  had  a  good  jour 
ney,  didn't  you  ? 

VIOLA 

[conventionally]  Very  pleasant —  the  train  was 
express,  right  through. 

NORMAN 

[same  conventional  tone]  It  was  on  time  —  to 
the  dot.  [Takes  out  watch  and  looks  at  it.]  I  got 
there  precisely  two  seconds  ahead  of  it. 

MOTHER 
Yes  —  you  were  late  about  starting 

BOY 

[elbows  on  knees,  staring  at  her  devotedly]  I 
wish  you'd  brought  the  children,  you  know ! 

[Subtle  shock  through  group. 

VIOLA 

[looking  down  at  him  —  a  little  breathless]  I 
couldn't  bring  them 

BOY 

No,  I  suppose  you  couldn't.  Bad  for  kiddies 
—  travelling  'round.  ...  I  was  just  wondering 
if  they  look  very  much  like  you. 

63 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

VIOLA 

I  —  don't  know  —  Do  you  think  they  do  ? 
[Looks  appealingly  at  NORMAN. 

NORMAN 

[startled]  Well  —  no  —  yes  —  Perhaps  Ford- 
ham  looks  —  a  little  like  you.  [To  BOY.]  You'd 
better  get  your  work  finished,  hadn't  you  ? 

BOY 

[pleadingly]  And  you  all  sitting  here  so  happy  ! 
I  call  that  a  shame !  Cant  I  stop  —  just  a  Jew 
minutes,  mummie  ? 

MOTHER 
Work  while  you  work 

BOY 

And  play  while  you  play.  Yes  —  I'm  play 
ing  now !  [Clasps  hands  contentedly  round  knees 
and  rocks  back  and  forth. 

VIOLA 

[holding  out  hands  with  startled  look]  My 
rings ! 


THE  MOTHER 


NORMAN 

[smiling]  I  noticed  you  were  not  wearing 
them. 

VIOLA 

But  I  brought  them !  They  were  in  the 
little  bag.  I  must  have  left  it  —  in  the  cab. 
Oh.  .  . !  [She  looks  at  her  hands,  as  if  fearful] 
It  is  ill-luck !  —  It  is  an  omen !  They  were 
my  mother's.  .  .  .  And  they  were  all  I  brought 
with  me ! 

[She  stares  at  her  hands  and  shivers  a  little. 

NORMAN 

[on  his  feet]  That's  all  right !  Don't  you  be 
troubled.  [He  comes  and  stands  by  her,  his 
hand  on  the  back  of  her  chair]  I  will  telephone. 
They're  sure  to  have  found  them ! 

[He  goes  toward  hall. 

BOY 

[looking  after  him]  Now  that's  a  shame ! 
Just  as  we  were  having  such  a  jolly  time ! 

MOTHER 

I  think  it  is  bedtime. 

[NORMAN'S  voice  heard  in  hall  speaking  in 
telephone. 

65 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

NORMAN 

All  right  —  A  black  bag  —  yes.  .  .  .  I'll 
be  right  down.  [Appearing  in  doorway.} 
They've  found  it !  I  shall  have  to  go  down 
and  prove  your  property.  It  won't  take  long. 

MOTHER 

Better  take  your  other  coat.  It  is  cooler 
than  it  was. 

NORMAN 
I  can't  bother !  [Goes  off. 

MOTHER 

He  must  take  it.  [Goes  toward  door.  Looks 
back.]  Bedtime,  Jamie ! 

BOY 

I'm  not  in  the  least  sleepy,  you  know ! 

MOTHER 

[smiling]  I  suppose  not.  Run  along  now, 
son [Goes  out. 

BOY 

[gathering  up  books  from  table  slowly]  Don't 
you  think  evenings  are  beastly  short  ? 

66 


THE  MOTHER 


VIOLA 

Evenings  ?  —  No  —  They  always  seem  long 
to  me  —  and  lonely. 

BOY 

[coming  over  with  armful  of  books,  sits  on  arm 
of  MOTHER'S  chair,  swinging  foot]  Now,  that's 
queer !  They're  really  only  two  or  three  hours, 
you  know  —  just  the  nicest  part  of  the  day  !  If 
I  made  a  day  —  I'd  make  it  mostly  evening ! 

VIOLA 

[looking  at  him  and  smiling]  I  think  /  shall 
like  them  —  here 

BOY 

[nodding  encouragingly]  Sure  to  !  There's  such 
a  lot  of  things  to  talk  about  —  discuss,  you 
know.  Don't  you  think  mummie's  nice  ? 

VIOLA 
Yes. 

BOY 

/  think  she's  great !  .  .  .  [With  interest.} 
Who  is  your  favorite  author  ? 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

VIOLA 

[startled}  Why — I — don't  know.  .  .  .  Shake 
speare,  I  think. 

BOY 

[nodding]  He's  pretty  good !  7  like  Dickens ! 
.  .  .  Say,  don't  you  think  he's  ripping  —  the 
way  they're  always  falling  round  —  and  thump 
ing  and  doing  things  —  ?  Pickwick's  fine ! 

VIOLA 

[smiling]  Yes 

BOY 

Old  Bartlett  makes  us  read  Milton  —  That's 
rot  —  mostly.  Some  of  it's  good  —  about  Satan 

—  you  know. 

VIOLA 
I  don't  believe  I  remember 

BOY 

[consolingly]  Tisn't  like  Dickens,  not  so  good 

—  just  parts  of  it 

MOTHER 

[in  door,  rear]   Bedtime,  Jamie ! 
68 


THE  MOTHER 


BOY 

I'm  gone !  —  Good  night.  —  Yes,  mummie. 
[Kisses  her,  throwing  one  arm  around  neck  and 
half  strangling  her.  Goes  over  to  guest,  more  for 
mally.  Hesitates  a  minute,  bends  forward  shyly 
and  kisses  her  on  forehead.}  Good  night ! 

VIOLA 
[lip  trembling  a  little]   Good  night,  Jamie. 

BOY 

See  you  in  the  morning !  [He  goes  out. 

MOTHER 

[mends  fire,  on  her  knees  before  it]  Shall  we  sit 
up  a  little  while  —  or  would  you  like  to  go  to 
bed  ?  I  know  you  are  tired. 

VIOLA 

Oh,  let  us  sit  here  —  a  little  while.  [Looks 
about  the  room  wistfully.}  I'm  like  Jamie,  I  think; 
I  like  the  evening  here  by  the  fire. 

MOTHER 
[smiling]  He's  a  great  boy ! 

69 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

VIOLA 

[softly]  He's  a  dear!  .  .  .  How  he  talked 
about  my  babies.  .  .  . 

MOTHER 
He  didn't  know. 

VIOLA 

They  really  won't  miss  me  —  so  much  —  you 
know [Looks  at  her,  a  little  pleadingly. 

MOTHER 
Are  you  so  sure  ? 

VIOLA 

I  never  see  very  much  of  them.  They  are  al 
ways  with  nurse. 

MOTHER 
Yes. 

VIOLA 

[gets  up  and  moves  across  room,  L.  Stands  look 
ing  at  her]  I  know  —  you  must  —  think  I  am 
—  horrid.  .  .  . 

MOTHER 

[looking  at  her  and  smiling  a  little]  I  think  you 
are  —  charming ! 

70 


THE   MOTHER 


VIOLA 

[puts  out  hand,  as  if  warding  off  something] 
Please  don't !  [Coming  nearer.]  I  am  not  myself. 
I  feel  so  strange !  I  keep  saying:  "Can  it  be  I? 
Am  7  doing  this  thing  ? " 

MOTHER 
Yes  —  I  know. 

VIOLA 

I  feel  as  if  it  were  a  dream.  [Catches  breath.] 
But  it  is  not  —  a  dream  ! 

MOTHER 

No.  [Coming  over  to  couch,  L.]  Sit  down.  Tell 
me  —  if  you  would  like 

VIOLA 

[sits  down]  Oh,  I  want  to  talk !  It  suffocates 
—  I  am  in  a  net !  [Puts  hand  to  throat.]  There  is 
no  way  out ! 

MOTHER 

It  will  be  easier.  .  .  .  You  are  with  friends 
now  —  the  hardest  part  is  over  —  the  strug- 
gle 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 
VIOLA 

[after  a  minute]  The  struggle  has  not  begun, 
I  think.  [In  a  low  voice.]  I  haven't  really  tried 

—  you  know.  You  must  not  think  I  am  better 

—  than  I  —  am.  ...  I  drifted  at  first.  ...  I 
didn't  know  what  it  was  —  I  saw  him  —  Nor 
man  —  at  the  Rodmans'  —  but  I  didn't  notice 
him  —  I  didn't  know  that  I  noticed.  .  .  .  Deep 
down  I  must  have  known  —  even  then.  Then 
I  saw  him  again  —  and  again  —  and  suddenly 
I  knew  —  if  he  was  near  me  —  when  he  came 
into  the  room  —  and  when  he  went  out 

[Looks  at  her  inquiringly. 

MOTHER 
[nodding]  Yes. 

VIOLA 

But  even  then  I  didn't  know  —  I  played  with 
it.  It  made  me  happy  —  it  amused  me !  I  had 
never  felt  like  that  about  anybody  in  the 
world.  It  was  as  if  he  and  I  were  different  from 
the  rest  —  as  if  we  understood,  and  no  one 
else  could  ever  know  —  I  used  to  say  his  name 
over  and  over  —  just  say  it  to  myself  —  Nor 
man  —  Norman.  ...  I  would  wake  from  my 
sleep  saying  it  —  Norman.  [Turns  to  her  sud 
denly]  Don't  you  think  it  is  a  beautiful  name  ? 

72 


THE  MOTHER 


MOTHER 
[softly]  I  thought  so  when  I  gave  it  to  him. 

VIOLA 

[stares  at  her]  I  cannot  make  it  seem  that  you 
are  his  mother.  You  seem  —  just  —  another 
woman ! 

MOTHER 
That  is  what  I  am  —  another  woman.  Tell 

me 

VIOLA 

There  is  so  little  —  we  hardly  met  —  I  was 
swept  on  —  out  of  myself  —  into  a  great  white 
place  —  !  [Breaks  off]  But  you  cannot  under 
stand  —  I  knew  it  was  wrong  —  You  cannot 
understand  —  You  could  never  have  felt  that 
way 

MOTHER 

Yes  —  I  have  felt  —  just  that  way.  I  under 
stand  

VIOLA 

You!  [Staring]  But  you  cannot  have  felt 
that  way !  Norman  worships  you ! 

73 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

MOTHER 
I  am  his  mother! 

VIOLA 

[after  a  little  silence,  looking  at  her  wistfully] 
I  wish  somebody  worshipped  me. 

MOTHER 
[smiling]  Doesn't  he ? 

VIOLA 

No  —  not  worship  me  —  he  loves  me  —  and 
he  is  sorry  for  me,  and  that  sort  of  thing.  I 
think  he  will  be  very,  very  good  to  me  —  but 
he  doesn't  worship  me.  .  .  .  Oh,  I  am  so 
lonely ! 

[Throws  herself  into  the  other's  arms,  sob 
bing. 

MOTHER 

[smoothing  her  hair]  You  are  a  child ! 

VIOLA 

[sitting  up]  No  —  I  mustn't  let  you  think 
that;  I  know  how  wicked  I  am  !  I  know  I  shall 
suffer  for  it  sometime  —  horribly 

74 


THE  MOTHER 


MOTHER 
Aren't  you  suffering  now ? 

VIOLA 

Not  really  —  I  am  —  crying  —  But  I  am  — 
happy  —  because  he  —  is  coming  —  soon ! 
[Makes  a  little  gesture  toward  door.  Looks  at  her 
wistfully.}  It  is  different,  see,  from  what  you 
think.  I  know  I  am  doing  wrong  —  but  I  want 
to  do  wrong !  .  .  .  You  do  not  understand  — 
after  all 

MOTHER 

[leans  toward  her  a  little]  Shall  I  tell  you  some 
thing  ?  .  .  .  There  is  not  a  woman  in  the  world 
that  does  not  understand 

VIOLA 
Oh !  [Shrinking  back.}  How  horrible ! 

MOTHER 

[shaking  her  head}  I  do  not  think  I  am  — 
horrible ! 

VIOLA 

You!  You  are  a  saint ! 
75 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

MOTHER 

And  I  am  not  a  saint  —  just  human  —  and  I 
have  been  in  love  many  times. 

VIOLA 

[breathless  —  and  a  little  scandalized]  With 
different  men ! 

MOTHER 
[nodding]  I  told  you  —  I  understood 

VIOLA 

[drawing  back  a  little]  But  —  it  seems — dread 
ful —  somehow!  I  could  never  love  anybody  — 
but  Norman ! 

MOTHER 

[putting  out  an  arm  and  drawing  her  nearer] 
You  think  so  —  but  it  is  not  really  Norman  you 
love.  You  love  the  mystery  —  in  his  eyes  —  in 
the  turn  of  his  head  —  the  way  he  walks 

VIOLA 

[breathlessly]  Yes  —  and  the  way  he  moves 
his  hands  —  like  that !  It  is  dear  !  He  is  so  fierce 
[laughs  a  little]  —  and  strong  ! 


THE  MOTHER 


MOTHER 
[looking  at  her  intently]  And  so  mysterious ! 

VIOLA 
That  is  it !  I  can't  understand  him ! 

MOTHER 

And  when  you  understand  him  —  you  will 
not  love  him  —  perhaps 


VIOLA 

[looking  at  her  as  if  struck  by  something]  What 
—  do  you  —  mean  ? 

MOTHER 

It  is  only  a  quest  —  our  love  —  the  seeking  of 
a  mystery.  We  see  it  in  the  face  of  some  one  — 
all  the  mystery  of  the  ages  —  we  think  if  we 
come  nearer,  we  shall  solve  it  ...  this  strange, 
unknown  thing  that  lures  us  from  ourselves. 
But  when  we  come  to  it,  it  is  gone.  The  face 
that  carried  us  back  to  wonder  and  flight  and 
pursuit  —  the  green  places  of  the  earth  —  and 
shadowy  mists  —  is  only  the  face  of  an  ordinary 
man  going  to  the  bank  and  back  —  every  day. 
Sometimes  we  catch  a  glimpse  of  it  again  — 
that  look  in  his  face  —  but  we  know  that  it  is 

77 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

not  his  look.  ...  It  is  the  eternal  mystery  — 
looking  out  at  us.  ...  Then  —  if  we  keep  on 
being  alive  —  we  see  it  again  and  again  —  in  the 
face  of  another  man  —  and  another  —  in  his 
walk,  in  the  way  he  stoops  to  a  child,  and  it 
lures  us  again  —  Surely,  this  time  we  shall 
find  it  ...  the  will-o'-the-wisp !  .  .  .  And  at 
last  we  learn  the  truth  —  that  we  shall  never 
find  it  —  because  its  name  is  Life  —  calling  to 
us  —  that  look  of  mystery  —  it  is  the  unborn 
souls  of  children  calling.  .  .  .  But  there  is  a 
deeper  look [She  breaks  off  and  is  silent. 

VIOLA 
Yes  —  tell  me 

MOTHER 

[with  decision]  Not  to-night !  You  are  tired, 
and  I  have  talked  too  much 

VIOLA 

No  —  tell  me  —  that  other  look.  .  .  .  Shall 
/  see  it  ? 

MOTHER 

[looking  down  at  her]  You  must  rest  now. 
[She  half  lifts  her  to  her  feet,  and  they  move 
toward  door.  At  the  door  they  -pause, 

78 


THE  MOTHER 


VIOLA 

[looking  at  her]  Do  you  know?  —  I  think  I 
love  you  —  very  much.  [Smiles  tremulously.]  Is 
that,  too,  the  mystery  ? 

MOTHER 

[bends  forward  and  kisses  her]  Yes  —  that,  too, 
is  the  mystery  ! 

[ViOLA  goes  out.  The  MOTHER  closes  the  door 

behind  her  and  crosses  to  desk,  L.  Her  face 

has  grown  tired.  She  sorts  papers  and  files 

them  in  the  desk. 
[Door  at  back  opens  cautiously.   BOY  puts 

head  in.  Comes  in,  shutting  door  carefully. 

He  is  dressed  in  pajamas,  with  bare  feet. 

Moves  on  tiptoe  across  room. 

MOTHER 

[without  looking  up]  You  ought  to  be  in 
bed 

BOY 
Oh  !  —  you  peeked  ! 

MOTHER 

[turning  a  little  and  putting  out  a  hand]  Don't 
you  suppose  I  know  your  great,  clumping  feet  ? 

79 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

BOY 

[throws  arm  around  her}  Come  and  sit  by  the 
fire! 

MOTHER 

Not  to-night  —  I  have  to  finish  these 

[Lays  hand  on  papers. 

BOY 

Bother !  Well,  good  night !  [Bends  and  kisses 
her.}  I  just  wanted  to  come  down  —  you  know. 

MOTHER 
Yes,  I  know  —  good  night ! 

[She  turns  back  to  her  papers  and  he  goes  to 
ward  door,  stops  and  looks  at  her,  goes  back 
a  few  steps  and  kisses  the  back  of  her  neck, 
just  below  the  hair. 

MOTHER 
Go  to  bed ! 

BOY 

All  right !  [Exit  hurriedly. 

[She  keeps  at  work.  Door  opens  again  and 
she   looks   around.   VIOLA   has   come   in, 
dressed  to  go  out. 
80 


THE   MOTHER 


MOTHER 

[starting  up,  one  hand  on  the  desk]  You  are 
going  out  ? 

VIOLA 
Going  home  —  yes. 

MOTHER 

[coming  over  to  her]  You  are  sure  —  you  want 
to  go  ? 

VIOLA 

Sure.  .  .  .  Now  you  can  tell  me  —  that 
other  look ? 

MOTHER 
Now  I  can  —  tell  —  you.  Yes.  Sit  down. 

VIOLA 

[looking  about]  I  must  go  —  before  he  comes. 
I  might  lose  courage  —  if  I  saw  him.  ...  I 
want  to  go  back  —  to  my  boys  !  [Shyly.]  I  want 
them  —  to  —  [Breaks  off.]  I  want  to  go  home. 

MOTHER 

[putting  arm  about  her]  So  you  have  seen  it  — 
the  other  look ! 

81 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

VIOLA 
[looking  at  her,  startled]  I  have  seen  it  ? 

MOTHER 

[nodding]  That  —  deeper  look  —  in  the  eyes 
of  our  children  when  they  come  —  all  the  life  of 
the  world  —  looking  out  to  us  —  calling  us  to 
free  it  —  the  new  day.  That  is  their  look  — 
mystery  and  hope  and  courage.  .  .  .  And  we  do 
not  love  that  look  —  we  worship  it,  I  think.  .  .  . 
Mother-love  reaches  to  it  —  farther  than  her 
hands  can  stretch  —  and  bears  the  weight  of 
the  world  —  [Touches  her  shoulders  gently.]  Now 
write  a  note  to  NORMAN.  [Turns  her  toward  desk.} 
Tell  him  —  why  you  are  going.  He  would  rather 
hear  it  from  you. 

[She  turns  toward  door  and  goes  out. 

VIOLA 

[sitting  at  desk,  writes  note  and  seals  it.  Carries 
it  to  table  and  props  it  against  book  where  it 
will  be  seen.  Goes  about  room,  touching  things 
lightly,  as  if  loving  them;  sits  down  in  differ 
ent  chairs  —  playing  at  being  at  home.  Door 
opens  and  MOTHER  comes  in,  dressed  in  out 
door  things.] 

82 


THE  MOTHER 


VIOLA 

[looking  up)  startled]  You  are  going  with  — 
me? 

MOTHER 

[smiling]  Didn't  you  invite  me  to  return  your 
visit  ?  I  am  going  to  spend  the  night  —  if  you 
ask  me  —  [Holds  out  small  bag.]  Are  we  ready  ? 

VIOLA 

[wistfully]  I  am  ready.  [They  go  out.  At  the 
door  VIOLA  pauses  and  gives  a  last  look  about 
room.]  And  it  might  have  been  right  for  me  to 
stay ! 

[They  go  out.  Light  turned  off  as  they  go. 
[Enter  BOY  again,  in  pajamas.  Moves  about 
in  firelight.  Sees  letter  on  table,  carries  it 
to  fire  and  looks  at  address.  Puts  it  back. 
Sudden  sound  in  hall.  He  darts  toward 
open  French  window. 

[Enter  NORMAN,  carrying  bag  in  hand  and 
smiling  happily.  Goes  over  to  fire,  stands 
with  back  to  it.  Sees  letter  on  table,  peers 
at  it.  Goes  over  and  takes  it  up.  Turns  on 
shaded  light  on  table.  Light  shines  on  him, 
rest  of  room  dim.  Reads  letter  and  sits  look 
ing  at  it,  head  resting  on  hands.  BOY  steps 

83 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

cautiously  in  from  window.  Steals  toward 
door.  Falls  over  stool,  picks  himself  up, 
chagrined. 

NORMAN 
[turns  and  peers  at  him.]   Caught  in  the  act ! 

BOY 

Stupid  old  thing !  [Hits  stool.  Glances  shyly  at 
letter.}  I  think  I'll  go  to  bed 

NORMAN 
What  are  you  doing  here  ? 

BOY 

Just  going  to  bed. 

NORMAN 

Umph  !  Time  —  I  should  think.  [Hesitates  a 
minute  —  picks  up  letter.}  Mrs.  Carlton  has  had 
to  go  home.  [Goes  over  to  fire  with  letter. 

BOY 
I  say  —  that's  a  shame  ! 

NORMAN 

Well  —  not  a  shame  —  exactly  !  [Puts  letter 
on  coals]  The  children  needed  her. 


THE  MOTHER 


BOY 
Pains  in  tummies  ? 

NORMAN 
No  —  just  wanted  her  to  come  home. 

BOY 

[nods]  Poor  kiddies  !  [Goes  to  door,  opens  it, 
and  goes  out,  shutting  it  slowly  behind  him.  NOR 
MAN  stands  by  fire,  watching  letter  burn. 

BOY 

[opens  door,  before  he  has  fairly  closed  it,  and 
puts  head  in.]  They'll  be  glad  !  Nobody  like  your 
own  mummie! 

CURTAIN 


ACT   III 

ANDANTE 

THE  BROTHER 


CHARACTERS 

MARK   STRATTON,   president  and   owner  of  the  Northern 
Securities  Company's  plant. 

HELEN  STRATTON,  his  daughter. 

JEM  HADDIE,  an  employee  of  the  company. 

BOBBIE,  office  boy. 

Mob  of  strikers  and  mill-hands. 


ACT   III 


SCENE:  Office  of  MARK  STRATTON,  president 
and  owner  of  the  Northern  Securities  Com 
pany's  plant.  Spacious  room,  second  floor. 
Velvet  rug  on  floor,  mahogany  and  leather 
furniture,  large  pieces,  massive  style.  L.  large 
table  desk  facing  R.  Typewriter  desk  near  by 
and  straight  chair.  Sofa  R.  back.  Armchairs 
R.  and  L.  front.  Low  carved  bench  L.C.  Plate- 
glass  windows  at  back,  right  one  partly  open; 
dark  shades,  half  lowered.  Heavy  chandelier 
C.;  green  shaded  electric  light  with  cord  on 
desk.  Doors  middle  L.  wall  and  R.  front; 
closet  door  L.  of  L.  window. 

Enter  young  woman,  plainly,  almost  mannishly 
dressed,  coat  and  hat;  glances  at  desk;  goes  to 
closet,  opens  door;  reveals  shallow  closet, 
office  coat  on  hanger;  shuts  door  and  rings 
bell  on  desk  cord. 

Enter  office  boy,  R. 

HELEN 

[nodding    to    boy    pleasantly]   How    are    you, 
Bobbie  ?  Do  you  know  where  my  father  is  ? 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

BOBBIE 

He  went  out  —  half  an  hour  ago,  Miss  Strat- 
ton. 

HELEN 

[looking  thoughtful]  Alone  ? 

BOBBIE 

Mr.  Clausen  came  for  him.  It's  the  —  strike, 
I  guess. 

HELEN 

Yes  —  [Waits  a  minute.]  He  didn't  leave  any 
word  —  for  me  ? 

BOBBIE 
[shakes  head]  He  went  in  a  hurry 

HELEN 

Of  course.  [Turns  to  door,  L.]  Tell  him  I  came 
to  drive  him  home,  will  you,  Bobbie?  —  And 
I'll  be  back  in  half  an  hour. 

BOBBIE 
I  reckon  he'll  be  late  to-night. 

HELEN 

[turns,  hand  on  knob]  Why  do  you  say  that  ? 
90 


THE    BROTHER 


BOBBIE 

[moves  hand  toward  open  window,  R}  There's 
things  doing  down  there. 

HELEN 

[leaves  door  and  comes  C.}  The  strikers ? 

BOBBIE 

[nodding,   important}  I   don't    like   the   way 
things  are  going. 

HELEN 

[half  smiles}   You  re  not  afraid  ! 

BOBBIE 

I  ain't  afraid  —  exactly.  [Hesitates}  They've 
been  at  me  again.  They  say  I've  got  to  quit. 

HELEN 

[impatiently]  What  nonsense!  Don't  you  think 
of  such  a  thing,  Bobbie ! 

BOBBIE 
No'm  —  not  unless  I  have  to. 

HELEN 
What  kind  of  things  —  are  they  —  doing  ? 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

BOBBIE 

Just  hanging  round  —  scowling  at  you  — 
One  of  'em  threw  a  rock.  But  Jem  Haddie 
stopped  that  —  pretty  quick ! 

HELEN 

[starting]  Jem  Haddie ? 

BOBBIE 
[nodding]  What  he  says  —  goes  ! 

HELEN 
Is  he  in  it ! 

BOBBIE 

Is  he  in  it !  Twas  him  called  the  strike.  He's 
the  biggest  man  in  this  town ! 

HELEN 
Except  —  my  father  —  of  course. 

BOBBIE 

[looking  at  her]  That's  what  they  are  going  to 
find  out  to-night,  Miss  Stratton.  [Nods  toward 
door,  R.]  He's  waiting  in  there  for  him  — 
now 

92 


THE    BROTHER 


HELEN 

[starts]  Mr.  Haddie  is  in  there  —  ?  [Sits  down 
in  desk  chair,  facing  R.]  Tell  him  to  come  in. 
.  .  .  Don't  tell  him  /  am  here.  Just  say  "Come 


in" 


[Bobbie  grins.  Exit  R.] 
[Enter  Haddie,  R.  Stops  short,  looks  at  her 
searchingly.  He  is  tall  and  dark  and  slight. 
A  dreamer's  face,  with  firm  mouth  and 
chin.  He  stands  a  moment  looking  at  her. 
She  confronts  him  across  desk.  She  rises 
and  comes  around  desk,  C. 

HELEN 
Well ? 

HADDIE 
You  —  here ! 

HELEN 

Why  not  ?  I  came  to  drive  father  home. 
[HADDIE  comes  C.  He  is  holding  a  soft  cap 
in  his  left  hand. 

HELEN 

[holds  out  her  hand]   Bobbie  told  me  —  you 
were  there.  So  I  said  —  "come  in." 

93 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

HADDIE 

[taking  her  hand]  I  was  waiting  to  see  —  your 
father. 

HELEN 

I  know  —  about  the  strike.  Tell  me,  Jem  — 
are  things  —  so  very  bad  ? 

HADDIE 

[releasing  her  hand  slowly]  That  is  for  your 
father  to  say. 

HELEN 

What  do  you  mean  ?  Do  sit  down  —  [Motions 
to  wooden  bench.  He  seats  himself,  and  she  sits 
in  chair,  L.  front,  bending  forward.]  Tell  me ! 

HADDIE 

The  strikers  have  sent  an  ultimatum  —  He 
must  agree  to  consider  their  proposals. 

HELEN 
Their  demands ? 

HADDIE 

Words  won't  make  any  difference  to  them. 
They  mean  to  have  what  they  want — now. 

94 


THE    BROTHER 


HELEN 
Bobbie  says  you  can  —  control  them 

HADDIE 
Bobbie ! 

HELEN 

[looking  at  him  and  speaking  slowly]  I  believe 
—  you  can. 

HADDIE 
[turning  to  her]  Why  do  you  say  that  —  now  ? 

HELEN 

[quietly]   Because  I  believe  it. 

HADDIE 

Then  you  understand  as  little  as  every  one 
else.  I  am  their  mouthpiece.  I  can  speak  for 
them.  I  can  put  the  case  to  your  father  —  so 
that  he  will  understand  —  perhaps.  But  I  can 
not  control  them  —  beyond  a  certain  point 

HELEN 
What  is  that  point  ? 

HADDIE 


[smiles  enigmatically]  That  is  what  I  do  not 
know.  No  one  knows  —  [Gets  up  and  moves  L. 

95 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

Turns  and  faces  her,  hands  thrust  in  pockets}  I 
feel  sometimes  as  if  I  were  part  of  a  great  — 
beast. 

HELEN 

[breathless]  That  is  it !  A  great  beast  —  And 
my  father? 

HADDIE 
Any  time  it  may  leap  out  and  fall  upon  him. 

HELEN 

[quickly}  My  father ! 

HADDIE 

[laughs}  They  will  sweep  him  —  like  a  leaf. 
[With  a  quick  gesture]  You  know  that ! 

HELEN 

[swiftly]   But  you  can  stop  them 

HADDIE 

[comes  toward  bench  and  stands  with  one  knee 
resting  on  it,  looking  at  her  curiously]  Do  you 
think  so  ? 

HELEN 

[lifts  her  hands]  You  can  do  it.  [HADDIE  is 

looking  at  her  quietly  —  a  dreamy  look  comes  into 


THE    BROTHER 


his  face.]  Why  did  you  not  tell  me,  Jem  ?  Why 
have  you  not  been  to  see  me  ?  I  have  expected 
you  —  I  have  not  seen  you  —  for  weeks. 

[She  gets  up  from  chair  and  comes  to  bench. 

HADDIE 
Your  father  told  me  not  to. 

HELEN 

[indignantly]  Father  told  you  not  to  see 
me ! 

HADDIE 

Practically  that.  [Smiles.]  He  tried  to  bribe 
me,  I  think.  He  told  me  he  preferred  I  should 
not  see  you  until  things  quieted  down  a  bit. 

HELEN 
He  meant ? 

HADDIE 

He  believed  —  as  you  do  —  that  I  could 
keep  the  men  in  hand.  .  .  .  And  he  used  you 
—  for  a  bribe 

[He  speaks  slowly,  with  quiet  intention. 

97 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

HELEN 

[looks  at  him,  startled,  a  puzzled  expression  in 
her  face.  She  moves  back  a  little]  Jem ! 

HADDIE 

[nods  quietly,  but  does  not  stir]  That  is  what 
he  meant,  I  think.  .  .  .  You  did  not  know  that 
I  cared  —  He  knew  that  I  caced.  He  meant 
to  use  it  —  he  is  a  very  shrewd  man  —  Mark 
Stratton.  [She  winces  a  little.]  But  he  over 
reached  himself  that  time.  He  saw  how  I  cared 
for  you.  [Moves  his  hands  quickly.]  I  would  have 
given  my  life  for  you  —  [She  moves  toward  him 
with  a  light,  swift  cry.  HADDIE  holds  up  his  hand.] 
Wait,  Helen  —  till  I  tell  you.  I  loved  you  like 
that,  yes  —  and  more.  And  he  could  not  have 
stopped  me.  .  .  .  But  when  he  said  that  to  me 
I  stopped  —  of  myself.  [Look  of  the  dreamer 
comes  into  his  face]  I  saw  everything  then  in  a 
still,  clear  light  —  thousands  of  years  away.  I 
saw  you  and  me  —  [She  has  come  nearer  and  he 
takes  her  hand.]  I  saw  you  and  me  —  and  all  the 
suffering  —  about  us.  And  I  knew  we  must  wait 
[He  bends  toward  her  and  she  lifts  her  face.]  I  did 
not  mean  to  say  it 


THE    BROTHER 


HELEN 

[quickly]  You  never  cared  that  I  —  suf 
fered  -  -! 

HADDIE 

I  saw  you  in  every  woman  I  met.  I  saw  you 
in  the  mills  —  stifling  in  the  heat  —  and  on  the 
streets.  ...  I  saw  you  everywhere.  And  I  set 
myself  to  win  you  and  release  you.  .  .  .  Then 
I  would  ask  for  my  —  reward 

HELEN 

[reaching  her  hands  to  his  shoulders  and  shaking 
them,  laughing  a  little  tremulously]  Jem  —  you 
are  too  —  high  up  !  [lie  drops  to  one  knee  and 
she  takes  his  face  in  her  hands.  Then  her  eyes 
fill  with  tears  and  she  searches  hastily  for  hand 
kerchief.  He  takes  one  from  his  pocket  and  hands 
it  to  her.  She  sits  on  bench,  laughing  a  little  hys 
terically  and  drying  eyes.  She  pats  the  bench.}  Sit 
down,  you  foolish  boy !  [Handing  him  handker 
chief.]  There  —  take  it ! 

HADDIE 

[takes  handkerchief  and  folds  it  slowly  —  puts  it 
inside  his  coat]  That  is  my  talisman 

99 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

HELEN 

You  are  too  romantic,  Jimmie !  This  is  the 
twentieth  century. 

HADDIE 

[his  face  lighting  up]  Isn't  it !  Did  you  ever 
know  such  a  time,  Helen !  I  wake  up  every 
morning  —  glad  to  be  alive  —  glad  that  I  am  a 
part  of  it.  Just  think  what  we  shall  do ! 

HELEN 

[moves  a  little  toward  him]  Tell  me !  What 
shall  we  do,  Jimmie  boy  ?  [She  looks  at  him, 
smiling,  and  he  returns  the  look.}  You  haven't 
kissed  me,  you  know ! 

HADDIE 

[shakes  his  head]  I  am  keeping  that  —  till  I 
come  back  from  the  war 

HELEN 

Then  we  must  hurry  up  the  war.  Tell  me 
what  /  can  do  —  /  want  to  fight ! 

HADDIE 

[touching  her  sleeve,  half  a  caress]  The  lady 
love  stays  at  home.  She  waits,  you  know. 
100 


THE    BROTHER 

HELEN 

[shaking  head]  Not  this  lady-love !  This  is  the 
twentieth  century,  Jem  —  not  the  sixteenth. 
Women  don't  sit  and  wait  now.  They  hike  to 
Albany  and  Washington 

HADDIE 
And  they  work  in  the  mills. 

HELEN 

Yes.  [Her  face  grows  sober.]  Tell  me  my  part, 
Jem. 

HADDIE 
Get  your  father  to  promise  to  see  me 

HELEN 
Won't  he  see  you  ! 

HADDIE 

He  may  refuse  —  if  I  come  from  the  men. 
He  has  been  irritated  to-day  —  you  know 
him 

HELEN 

[her  face  softens]  Poor  Dad  ! 
101 


HE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 


HADDIE 

He  may  refuse  —  and  I  cannot  hold  them. 
.  .  .  I  am  to  report  to  them  at  six  o'clock. 
[Looks  at  his  watch.}  All  day  the  tide  has  been 
rising.  I  feel  it  in  myself.  I  have  to  fight  to  keep 
it  back.  They  will  not  fight  —  not  to  keep  it 
back.  I  must  see  your  father  —  and  take  some 
message  from  him  to  the  men.  Nothing  else 
will  answer  —  now. 

HELEN 

[springs  to  her  feet,  her  hand  a  little  clinched] 
Of  course,  you  shall  take  a  message  !  I  will 
see  him  before  you  do.  Wait  in  the  other  room. 
[She  half  pushes  him  toward  door,  R.}  Don't  stop. 
He  may  be  back  any  minute.  .  .  .  When  he 
comes  in  I  will  ring  the  bell.  Then  give  me  ten 
minutes  before  you  rap.  [Her  hand  is  on  the  door. 
He  looks  at  her  and  comes  toward  her  and  she 
reaches  out  her  hands.  She  draws  them  back  and 
shakes  her  head,  smiling.}  Not  till  after  the  bat 
tle,  Jimmie  dear  ! 

[She  opens  the  door  quickly  and  he  goes  out. 
She  walks  thoughtfully  to  desk  and  sits  down 
in  chair.  Bends  toward  window  and  looks 
down  into  street.  Draws  back,  putting  hand 
across  eyes.  Stares  at  window.  Half  reaches 
102 


THE    BROTHER 


up  hand  to  draw  down  shade,  but  stops,  con 
trols  herself.  Murmur  of  voices  heard 
through  open  window;  she  goes  toward  it  as 
if  to  close  it,  but  stops  and  listens,  L.,  and 
turns  toward  desk.  Door  opens,  L.  She  lifts 
bell-cord  and  presses  button.  Enter  MARK 
STRATTON. 

HELEN 

[moving  to  him  quickly]  I  have  been  waiting 
such  a  time,  father !  Where  have  you  been  ? 

[Kisses  him. 

STRATTON 

[returning  kiss  absently]   Business. 

[Rubs  hand  across  forehead  and  goes  to  desk. 
Sits  down. 

HELEN 

[sitting  on  arm  of  big  chair,  L.]  I  came  to 
drive  you  home  —  when  you  are  ready. 

STRATTON 

[taking  letter  from  pile  and  opening  it]  I  don't 
believe  you'd    better  wait.   I   am  being  kept, 

maybe 

[Scanning  letter.    Throws  it  down  with  im 
patient  sound. 

103 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

HELEN 
What  is  it,  Daddy  ? 

STRATTON 

Another  order  —  that  we  can't  fill !  [Scribbles 
on  letter  and  puts  it  on  file.}  The  very  devil  is  in 
it! 

[During  the  conversation  that  follows  he  is 
opening  and  reading  letters,  giving  half 
attention  to  what  she  says. 

HELEN 
What  do  the  men  want,  father  ? 

STRATTON 

Want  — !  [Looks  up  absently.}  They  want  the 
earth ! 

HELEN 

Yes  —  we  all  want  that  —  don't  we,  Dad  ? 

STRATTON 

[glancing  at  her}  Nonsense ! 

HELEN 

I  mean  —  what  part  do  they  want  first  ? 
[He  reads  letter.  She  watches  him  a  minute. 
Gets  up  and  strides  across  room,  R.y  with 
104 


THE    BROTHER 


boyish   swing.    Comes  back   to   desk   and 
stands  opposite  him. 

STRATTON 

[looks  up  with  scowl.  Face  softens]  You  better 
not  wait,  Helen.  I  am  being  kept  —  maybe. 

HELEN 

[one  hand  thrust  in  coat  pocket}  There  is  some 
thing  I  want  to  ask  you,  father 

STRATTON 

Ask  it  this  evening  —  after  dinner  —  I  am 
tired  now. 

HELEN 

[shaking  head]  It  can't  wait.  [Moves  hand  to 
ward  window.]  It's  about  —  the  strike 

STRATTON 

[looks  at  her  a  minute  under  eyebrows]  You'd 
better  keep  out  of  the  strike,  Helen  —  It's  no 
place  for  a  woman. 

HELEN 

Aren't  there  women  in  it  ? 
105 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

STRATTON 
Not  my  women ! 

HELEN 

[with  right  hand  on  desk,  bending  a  little  toward 
him]  Father  —  I  want  you  to  promise  to  see 
Jem  Haddie  —  when  he  comes. 

STRATTON 
[grimly]   How  do  you  know  he  is  coming  ? 

HELEN 
He  told  me 

STRATTON 

Did  he  tell  you  to  wheedle  me  into  seeing 
him  ? 

HELEN 

[standing  very  quiet,  looking  at  him]  Do  you 
think  I  am  wheedling  —  you  —  father  ? 

STRATTON 

[his  eyes  drop]  No. 

HELEN 

It  was  7  who  thought  of  it  —  seeing  you.  .  .  . 
The  men  may  be  right.  You  won't  refuse  to 
106 


THE    BROTHER 


listen  —  to  hear  what  they  want !  You  are  not 

afraid 

STRATTON 

[brings  hand  down  on  desk]  Let  them  go  back 
to  work.  I'll  not  be  bullied  by  their  strike!  Let 
them  get  back  to  work  —  and  I'll  listen.  I'll 
meet  their  committee.  They  shall  get  what  they 
want  —  when  they  have  gone  back  to  work. 

HELEN 

And  suppose  they  won't  —  go  back  —  to 
work  ? 

STRATTON 

Then  let  them  starve.  We  have  enough  — 
they'll  not  drive  us  I 

HELEN 
You   have   enough.    /   have   only  what  you 

give  me 

STRATTON 

[looking  at  her  proudly]  It  is  all  yours, 
daughter.  Everything  is  for  you.  [Voice  softens. 
Motions  to  her.}  Come  here.  [She  comes  slowly 
around  desk.  He  faces  front,  putting  arm  around 
her  and  drawing  her  to  him.  She  stands  with  eyes 

107 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

lowered,  not  looking  at  him.  STRATTON  glances  up 
at  her  affectionately.}  You  must  be  a  good  child 
—  and  help  me 

HELEN 

I  am  not  a  child.  ...  I  want  you  to  see  Jem 
when  he  comes. 

STRATTON 

[watching  her]  Why  are  you  so  keen  about  my 
seeing  Jem  ? 

HELEN 

Because  I  believe  he  may  be  right  and  [look 
ing  at  him]  because  I  —  love  him  ! 

STRATTON 
So  that  is  it ! 

HELEN 

[nodding  quietly}  That  is  it. 

STRATTON 

[draws  her  on  his  knee  and  kisses  her}  Well  — 
your  old  father  is  glad  !  I've  suspected  some 
thing  of  the  sort. 

HELEN 

[looking  at  him}  I  haven't ! 
1 08 


THE    BROTHER 


STRATTON 

[patting  her  arm]  Well  —  well!  That's  all 
right !  Haddie  will  make  his  way.  He  has  the 
stuff.  Perhaps  he  will  be  manager  some  day.  I'm 
making  him. 

HELEN 

[drawing  back  a  little]  Suppose  he  is  making 
himself! 

STRATTON 

[laughing]  Ho-ho  !  Jealous  is  she  !  Well,  we'll 
let  him  make  himself — manager.  [Pinches  her 
cheek.]  Now  run  along,  daughter.  I  must  finish 
my  work. 

HELEN 

[glancing  at  watch  on  wrist.  Stands  up]  You 
will  see  Jem  —  when  he  comes 

STRATTON 

[speaks  sharply]  Not  if  he  comes  from  the 
men !  I  have  no  dealings  with  the  men  —  not 
until  they  go  to  work ! 

HELEN 

[quietly,  moving  from  him]  Then  I  go  with  Jem 
—  to-night. 

109 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

STRATTON 
[starting  up]  Helen 

HELEN 
Only  a  coward  would  refuse  to  see  him ! 

STRATTON 
You  can't  understand  —  You  are  a  woman ! 

HELEN 
I  am  —  a  woman  —  yes. 

STRATTON 
Don't  you  see  —  there  is  a  principle  at  stake  ? 

HELEN 

I  don't  care  for  a  principle,  I  guess !  [Both 
hands  in  pockets,  like  a  boy.]  A  principle  cannot 
starve,  can  it  ?  A  principle  cannot  suffer,  can 
it  ?  I  care  for  men  and  women  —  I  care  for 
Jem.  .  .  . 

STRATTON 

[stops,  looking  at  her]   For  Jem  —  yes.  [Sits 
down  wearily  like  an  old  man]  Had  you  thought 
of  me,  Helen  ?  .  .  .  /  have  no  one  but  you! 
no 


THE    BROTHER 


HELEN 
[face  softens]  I  know  —  Daddy 


STRATTON 

Let  me  manage  this  myself.  [Motions  to  win 
dow.]  They  will  come  to  terms.  [Grimly.]  They'll 
have  to  come  to  terms!  [Murmur  of  voices  heard] 
It's  my  business  they  are  interfering  with  — ! 
[Slyly.]  The  business  won't  stand  it  —  what 
they  are  demanding. 

HELEN 

[turns  to  door,  L.]  Then  you  won't  consent  ? 
[Voices  below  grow  louder. 

STRATTON 

[harshly]  No  one  shall  drive  me!  [Gets  up. 
Turns  to  her  sharply.]  Do  you  know  the  kind  of 
man  you  are  going  to  ?  He  will  never  get  on 
without  me!  He  is  sacrificing  himself — he  is 
the  kind  that  sacrifices  himself 

HELEN 

[flashing  out]  He  is  a  man!  —  big  enough  to 
care  for  something  besides  his  own  selfish  in 
terests  ! 

in 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

STRATTON 

And  he  will  sacrifice  you  —  to  the  people  — 
as  he  has  himself. 

HELEN 

I  hope  he  will !  That  is  the  kind  of  man  I  be 
long  with.  I  don't  want  a  man  for  a  domestic 
pet  —  or  for  a  watch-dog  around  the  house  to 
guard  me.  I  want  a  mate  !  [Moves  toward  door,  L. 

STRATTON 

[watching  her  guardedly]  If  I  see  —  Jem,  you 
will  wait  in  there  —  and  drive  me  home  ? 

HELEN 

[hand  on  door]  If  you  see  him  —  and  say  yes 
to  what  he  asks 

STRATTON 

[sits  looking  straight  before  him.  Face  hard  and 
old]  You  women  drive  a  hard  bargain  —  and 
it's  a  harder  bargain  every  year,  I  think. 

HELEN 

[faces  toward  him,  tense]  Will  you  —  see  him  ? 
...  He  is  going  to  rap  on  that  door  at  five. 

[Looks  at  watch  on  wrist.  The  man  leans  forward, 

112 


THE    BROTHER 


looking  at  door  apprehensively.  She  glances  at  it, 
too,  a  look  of  love  in  her  face.]  Will  you  see  him, 
father  ?  [Knock  sounds.}  Will  you,  father  ? 

[He  looks  at  her  and  nods.   She  leaves  the 
room  quickly.  The  knock  comes  again. 

STRATTON 

[voice  curt  and  businesslike]  Come  in !  [Enter 
HADDIE.  STRATTON  nods  to  him  casually.]  Come 
in,  Haddie.  Sit  down.  I  will  finish  my  mail  — 
if  you  don't  mind  waiting. 

HADDIE 

[stands  C.,  looking  at  him]  I  don't  mind,  Mr. 
Stratton.  But  I'm  afraid  I  must  ask  you  to 
listen  to  me  first  —  I  come  from  the  men 

STRATTON 

[holds  up  hand]  Cut  it  out,  Jem !  Talk  like  a 
fellow  human  being !  Sit  down.  [HADDIE  sits 
down,  L.  C.y  in  typist's  chair.}  Now,  I  want  to 
talk  to  you,  Jem  —  before  you  talk  to  me.  I 
want  to  talk  to  you  like  a  father.  [HADDIE  starts 
a  little  and  glances  at  him,  but  STRATTON'S  face 
is  apparently  unconscious.]  Your  father  and  I 
were  partners  a  good  many  years,  Jem.  .  .  . 
113 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

If  he'd  stayed  in  the  business  you  would  have 
been  rich  to-day  —  as  rich  as  /  am. 

[Expansively. 

HADDIE 

What  has  my  being  rich  to  do  with  this  ? 

[Motions  to  window. 

STRATTON 

{holding  up  hand]  Don't  hurry  me,  Jem.  I 
want  you  to  see  who  you  are  and  where  you 
belong.  You  don't  class  with  that  rabble  — 
down  there  —  not  even  as  leader.  You  were 
made  for  better  things  than  they  can  give. 
[HADDIE  starts  impatiently.]  Now,  wait  a  minute! 
I  want  you  to  look  at  this  thing  all  round  —  on 
all  sides.  See  it  through  an  older  man's  eyes.  I 
have  been  through  it  once  before,  Jem  —  and 
with  your  father,  and  he  was  nearer  to  me  than 
you  are  —  I  loved  your  father.  [HADDIE  has 
turned  and  is  watching  him  curiously.}  I  didn't 
want  him  to  leave  me.  It  was  bad  for  the 
business  —  bad  for  both  of  us.  But  he  got  no 
tions  in  his  head.  He  wouldn't  listen  to  reason. 
He  died  a  poor  man  - 

HADDIE 
And  an  honest  one. 

114 


THE    BROTHER 


STRATTON 
So  honest  I  helped  your  mother  to  bury  him. 

HADDIE 

You  may  help  to  bury  me  —  but  that  doesn't 
alter  this,  does  it  ?  [Motions  to  window. 

STRATTON 

[shaking  his  head]  You  won't  die  poor.  You're 
rich  —  whether  you  like  it  or  not.  Your  last  two 
patents  settled  that.  I  control  them  and  the 
royalties  alone  will  make  you  rich.  The  money 
doesn't  matter  to  either  of  us.  We  are  above  all 
that.  It  is  a  good  business  proposition  for  some 
men  to  stir  up  strikes;  but  you  can  make  a 
living  without  it.  What  I  want  is  that  you 
shall  see  that  you  are  throwing  away  your 
power  !  [Watching  him  keenly. 

HADDIE 
[turning  a  little]  What  do  you  mean  ? 

STRATTON 

[leaning  forward  and  speaking  rapidly}  Cer 
tain  men  are  born  to  lead  —  to  rule  —  You  are 
one  of  those  men  —  I  am  one  !  Join  forces  with 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

me.  I  want  you.  I  will  make  it  a  partnership. 
You  shall  have  equal  share  in  everything. 

HADDIE 

You  couldn't  stand  for  a  partner,  Mr.  Strat- 
ton.  You  broke  with  father 


STRATTON 
[quickly]  It  was  a  fair  deal 

HADDIE 

I  am  not  saying  it  was  not  —  I  don't  know. 
I  do  know  I  should  not  be  free  —  with  you. 

STRATTON 

Wait  —  Become  my  manager  then.   I  will 
put  the  business  absolutely  in  your  hands. 

HADDIE 

[looking  at  him}  Why  ? 

STRATTON 

I  don't  want  to  see  good  power  wasted  on  — 
dirt !  [Moves  hand  to  window.]  You  can  make 
them  do  what  you  want.  You  have  the  power, 
somehow  -  -  Use  it !  Shake  yourself  free  !  Rule 
them  from  above.  You  can  think  for  them,  plan 
116 


THE    BROTHER 


for  them  —  control  them  for  their  good.  Every 
stroke  will  count.  Now  they  drag  you  down, 
handicap  you.  All  you  are  doing  with  them  is 
to  let  them  pull  you  down  where  they  are. 
They  will  ruin  you. 

HADDIE 

[looks  at  watch]  We're  wasting  time  —  and  we 
haven't  very  much  to  spare.  I  promised  to 
meet  the  men  at  six  and  give  them  your  de 
cision  [Looks  at  him. 

STRATTON 
[curtly]  Go  on. 

HADDIE 

They  do  not  ask  so  much  —  only  that  you 
will  consider  the  things  they  ask  for. 

STRATTON 

That  is  the  whole  point !  They  shall  not  dic 
tate  !  Their  strike  is  a  pistol  at  my  head.  I  shall 
not  yield ! 

HADDIE 

It  is  not  a  pistol  —  not  yet.  But  at  any  min 
ute  a  strike  may  turn  into  a  pistol.  Things  are 
stirring,  moving  down  there.  /  feel  them.  I  am 
a  part  of  them;  and  I  know  that  presently 

117 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

something  may  leap  out  that  is  stronger  than 
I  am. 

STRATTON 

[starting  up]  Are  you  threatening  me ! 

HADDIE 

[quietly]  No,  7  am  being  threatened.  You  are 
being  threatened.  There  is  a  great  power  forc 
ing  its  way  into  life.  That  force  is  going  to  be 
born  —  whether  we  let  it  or  not. 

STRATTON 

It  will  never  be  born  if  we  strong  men  hold 
together.  You  will  sacrifice  yourself  for  noth 
ing,  for  men  who  are  not  worthy  to  tie  your 
shoe. 

HADDIE 

Perhaps  it  is  I  —  who  am  not  worthy !  I 
have  watched  them  cringe  and  starve  and  crawl. 

[As  if  he  saw  them  at  his  feet. 

STRATTON 
Now,  you  are  talking  sense ! 

HADDIE 

And  suddenly  I  have  seen  that  7  am  there  — 
cringing  and  starving  —  and  crawling  with 

118 


THE    BROTHER 


them !  It  is  as  if  I  looked  down  at  my  own  hand 
and  saw,  suddenly,  it  was  diseased.  [Holds  up 
handy  looking  at  it  slowly.}  Some  loathsome  dis 
ease  eating  its  way  into  the  tissue  and  into  the 
bone.  .  .  .  [STRATTON  glances  hastily  at  hand 
and  seems  to  rub  something  off.  HADDIE  speaks 
slowly.]  That  was  the  first  time  I  ever  under 
stood  what  it  meant  —  "for  no  man  liveth  to 
himself — and  no  man  dieth  to  himself."  .  .  . 
Do  you  know  why  we  called  this  strike  ? 
[STRATTON,  who  is  watching  him  uneasily,  shakes 
head.]  The  strike  is  not  about  better  hours  or 
more  pay  —  that  is  what  we  ask  for  —  but 
underneath  we  are  striking  for  life.  .  .  .  Shall 
I  tell  you  ?  —  There  were  two  girls  —  next  door 
to  me,  rented  rooms  —  their  father  a  sot  — 
mother  ill  —  three  younger  ones  barefoot, 
dirty.  .  .  .  Life  gets  some  people  by  the 
throat,  I  tell  you !  Those  girls  went  to  work 
many  a  morning  without  breakfast;  they 
worked  in  your  mill.  They  were  nice  girls  — 
And  one  night  they  sold  themselves.  I  saw 
them  on  the  street.  The  next  day  I  called  the 
strike.  The  men  had  been  urging  it,  but  I  had 
held  off.  I  thought  you  might  come  to  terms. 
Then  I  saw  there  was  not  time  —  to  wait.  I 
saw  those  girls  —  gentle  girls  they  were  — 
119 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

and  I  saw  my  own  mother  —  my  wife  —  my 
children  that  are  to  come  —  looking  out  at  me. 
I  called  the  strike  —  to  make  you  listen  to 
those  girls.  .  .  .  There  isn't  time,  I  tell  you  — 
not  time  enough  in  one  life  —  for  a  man  to 
wait.  ...  If  you  and  I  could  live  a  thousand 
years,  we  should  not  need  to  strike.  You  would 
come  to  see  —  in  a  thousand  years,  I  think ! 
But  there  were  those  two  girls  —  on  the  street. 
They  were  half  drunk.  .  .  .  All  that  any  one  is 
asking  of  you  is  that  you  should  listen,  Mark 
Stratton.  It  might  have  been  your  daughter  — 
going  off  with  that  brute  —  any  man's  daughter. 

They  were  nice  girls 

[During  this  speech  the  noise  and  the  voices 
outside  have  grown  louder. 

STRATTON 

[who  has  covered  his  face  and  shrunk  a  little, 
holds  up  a  hand]  Stop  —  what  do  you  want  of 
me ? 

HADDIE 

Only  that  you  will  meet  the  men's  committee 
and  let  them  feel  that  you  are  listening  to  them. 
[Bends  toward  him]  Will  you  do  that  ? 

120 


THE    BROTHER 


STRATTON 

[hand  drops  to  table]  I  will  see  them 

[Clamor  heard  below. 

HADDIE 

You  will  consider  what  they  ask  for  ?  [STRAT 
TON  nods]  May  I  tell  them  ? 

STRATTON 

[has  started  to  feet]  Tell  them  —  Go  !  —  Go  — 
for  God's  sake  go  and  leave  me  here  alone ! 

[Mob  that  has  been  howling  and  knocking  at 
gate  below,  heard  coming  up-stairs.  Bursts 
open  door,  R.,  and  surges  in.  Brutal  man 
with  pistol9  at  left  side,  slinking  behind 
others. 

HADDIE 

[wheels  about  and  faces  them,  standing  between 
them  and  STRATTON.  Holds  up  hand  for  silence] 
Stand  back  !  [A  muffled  sound  from  crowd. 

MAN  WITH  PISTOL 

He  has  betrayed  you !  The  damned  capital 
ist ! 

[Raises  pistol  and  takes  aim  at  STRATTON. 
HADDIE  springs  forward  and  knocks  pis- 

121 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

tol.  It  goes  of.  HADDIE  falls.  Crowd  draws 
back,  leaving  HADDIE  and  STRATTON  centre 
stagey  alone. 

HELEN 

[rushes  in  from  L.  door.  Kneels  and  takes 
HADDIE  in  her  arms,  bending  over  him.  Lifts  face 
to  her  father]  You  have  killed  Jem!  [To  crowd.] 
Between  you  —  you  have  killed  Jem  ! 

HADDIE 

[raising  himself  a  little,  speaks  slowly,  pointing 
to  the  master]  He  —  says  —  he  will  consider 

CURTAIN 


122 


ACT  IV 

ALLEGRO 

THE  LADY  WITH  WINGS 


CHARACTERS 

THEODORE  LEAVITT,  owner  of  a  garden. 
LOUISE  LEAVITT,  his  wife. 
MRS.  SIDBORN,  a  widow. 
ANDREW  MC!LVAINE,  the  gardener. 
TOMMIE,  gardener  s  assistant. 
TOINETTE,  Mrs.  Leavitt's  maid. 


ACT  IV 


SCENE:  Interior  of  walled  garden;  wall  extend 
ing  from  R-  front  to  L.  back;  ornaments  and 
flowers  on  top  of  wall;  R.  back,  iron  gate  in 
wall;  rose  pergola  curving  from  gate  to  C., 
covered  with  flowers,  two  small  poplars  at 
entrance;  L.  of  pergola,  fountain,  figure  of 
girl  holding  cup  in  one  hand  and  watching 
spray  that  rises  from  it;  fountain  seen  against 
background  of  poplars  and  cedars,  L.  back; 
L.  front,  near  fountain,  stone  bench;  R.  front, 
larger  bench;  R.  C.,  near  pergola,  and  under 
peach-tree  in  blossom,  a  table;  near  table, 
wicker  chair  and  small  footstool.  The  garden 
is  seen  under  branches  of  fruit  trees  in  blos 
som  —  cherry,  peach,  plum,  etc.;  flowers 
grow  at  the  base  of  the  wall  and  aquatic 
plants  and  feathery  grasses  near  the  foun 
tain;  blossoming  shrubs,  R.  and  L.  front. 
Shadows  on  the  ground  under  the  trees; 
these  with  the  light  spray  of  the  fountain  and 
the  blossoms  give  an  effect  of  clear  sunlight  in 
the  garden.  Beyond  the  garden,  outside  the 
wall,  the  trees  are  dark  and  overhanging. 
125 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

The  wall  and  the  fountain  and  garden-seats, 
etc.,  are  of  gray  concrete  with  slightly  rough 
ened  surface.  GARDENER  at  work  L.  back, 
BOY  at  work  R.  of  pergola. 

LADY 

[comes  through  pergola.  Turns  at  entrance  and 
looks  back  at  GARDENER]  Good  morning,  An 
drew.  [He  looks  up  from  his  work  and  lifts  his 
hat.  She  goes  to  fountain  and  kneels  down,  dip 
ping  hands  in  water.  She  holds  them  up  and 
watches  the  water  fall  from  her  fingers.  Takes 
handkerchief  from  dress  and  dries  hands.  Sees 
petals  on  ground  and  picks  them  up,  gathers 
a  handful  from  the  tree  and  floats  them  on  the 
water,  something  childlike  and  irresponsible  in 
pose  and  action.  She  looks  at  ANDREW  now  and 
then.  Takes  basket  from  base  of  fountain  and  comes 
front,  swinging  it  a  little;  sees  footstool  and  stops. 
Puts  basket  on  table  and  takes  up  stool,  examines 
it.  Looks  at  ANDREW,  who  is  busy.  She  sets  down 
stool  and  seats  herself  in  chair,  putting  feet  on 
stool.  Speaking  over  shoulder  to  BOY,  without 
turning  head.]  Tommie 

BOY 

[looking  up  from  digging]  Yes'm. 
126 


THE  LADY  WITH  WINGS 

LADY 

Come  here  —  [Bov  comes  front,  rubbing  hands 
on  his  trousers  and  smiling  happily.]  You  mustn't 
say  "Yes'm,"  Tommie. 

BOY 
No'm. 

LADY 

And  you  mustn't  say  "No'm."  —  Say,  "Yes, 
Mrs.  Leavitt.  No,  Mrs.  Leavitt." 

BOY 

[automatic  and  happy,  gazing  at  her,  entranced} 
Yes-Mrs.-Leavitt-no-Mrs.-Leavitt. 

LADY 

[smiling]  One  at  a  time  will  do.  Do  you  know 
where  this  came  from  ?  [Indicates  stool. 

BOY 

[drops  to  knees  beside  it,  facing  front.  Jerks 
thumb  over  shoulder]  I  reckon  he  must  'a'  done 
it,  M-m  —  Mrs.  Leavitt. 

LADY 

Good  —  Tommie  !    I  thought  Andrew  must 
have    made   it  —  but    I    didn't    know    but   it 
127 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

might  have  been  the  fairies —  [he  shakes  head 
violently]  or  a  little  bird  -  -  It  is  just  right  for 
me,  you  see !  And  I  needed  it  very  much. 

BOY 

[watching  her  adoringly  and  nodding]  I  guess 
likely  he  knew  you  needed  one,  M  —  Mrs. 
Leavitt. 

LADY 

[starts  and  looks  down  at  him]  But  that  is 
strange,  isn't  it,  Tommie !  I  didn't  know,  my 
self,  I  needed  a  footstool  —  and  now  I  see  I 
couldn't  possibly  get  along  without  one.  [Sits 
back  comfortably  in  chair.]  But  Andrew  knew  I 
needed  a  footstool. 

BOY 

[moving  a  little  closer  and  taking  bit  of  dress 
in  fingers  unconsciously]  Andrew  knows  every 
thing,  Mrs.  Leavitt ! 

LADY 

[laughs  a  little,  watching  boy  under  lowered  lids. 
He  is  fingering  bit  of  dress,  stroking  it  half  thought 
fully]  You  think  Andrew  is  a  very  good  man, 
don't  you,  Tommie ! 

128 


THE  LADY  WITH  WINGS 
BOY 

[stoutly]  He's  the  best  man  —  in  the  world  ! 

LADY 
Better  than  your  master  ? 

BOY 

[puzzled]  Andrew  is  my  master,  isn't  he  ? 

LADY 
I  meant  Mr.  Leavitt. 

BOY 

[confused  and  loyal]  Oh  —  Mr.  Leavitt  — 
He's  good9  too  —  but  —  but  —  Andrew  is  dif 
ferent  ! 

LADY 

[laughs  out]  So  he  is !  [Bends  and  touches  his 
head  lightly  with  her  hand.]  You  may  pick  a  rose 
for  me,  if  you  like  —  just  one  for  my  table. 
[Bov's  face  lightens  with  happiness.  He  hurries 
to  pergola  and  begins  to  search  for  a  perfect  rose. 
HUSBAND  comes  through  gate  at  end  of  pergola, 
parts  roses  near  wall  and  looks  out  at  LADY.  She, 
looking  dreamily  before  her,  repeats  TOMMIE'S 
words  softly  —  half  smiling.]  Mr.  Leavitt  is  good, 
too  —  but  Andrew  is  different !  [ToMMiE  ap- 
129 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

proaches  shyly  with  rose,  lays  it  in  her  lap.  She 
looks  down  startled.}  Oh,  thank  you,  Tommie. 
...  It  is  a  beautiful  one,  isn't  it !  [Lifts  it  in 
her  fingers  and  lays  it  against  her  cheek  and  lips. 
TOMMIE  watching  with  proud  eyes.  She  looks  at 
him  and  smiles.]  Thank  you ! 

BOY 

[voice  quite  formal  and  grave  and  high]  You 
are  welcome,  Mrs.  Leavitt. 

LADY 

[holds  it  from  her  and  looks  at  it  happily]  It 
is  a  beautiful  rose  —  that  Andrew  made  grow 
for  me  and  you  picked  for  me  —  Run  and  play 
now,  Tommie. 

BOY 

[starting  to  go]  I  don't  play,  you  know,  Mrs. 
Leavitt.  [Proudly.]  I  work ! 

LADY 

So  you  do!  But  it  is  all  the  same,  isn't  it, 
Tommie  !  —  work  and  play ? 

BOY 

[shakes  head]  It  don't  seem  the  same  to  me, 
ma'am. 

130 


THE  LADY  WITH  WINGS 

LADY 

But  some  day  it  will.  [ToMMiE  shaking  head 
slowly.}  You  ask  Andrew.  [Head  stops  shaking. 
LADY  laughs  out.]  You  would  believe  it  if  An 
drew  said  it  —  wouldn't  you  ? 

BOY 

Yes,  Mrs.  Leavitt.  You  have  to  believe  what 
Andrew  says. 

LADY 

Well,  you  ask  Andrew  if  work  isn't  just  the 
same  as  play.  I  must  do  my  work  now.  [Takes 
basket  from  table  and  opens  it,  puts  on  thimble. 
TOMMIE  watches  her.]  So  run  along  and  —  play, 
Tommie !  [ToMMiE  shakes  head,  smiling  at  joke, 
and  runs  to  his  work.  LADY  takes  out  muslin  and 
begins  to  sew,  smiling  at  her  thoughts.]  "  You  have 
to  believe  what  Andrew  says — "  [Work  falls 
to  her  lap  and  she  sits  looking  before  her.  HUSBAND, 
who  has  watched,  from  pergola,  rose  scene  between 
her  and  TOMMIE,  passes  through  pergola.  LADY 
speaking  slowly  and  dreamily.]  Mr.  Leavitt 
is  good,  too  —  but  Andrew  —  is  —  different ! 
[Takes  up  work  and  looks  at  it  blindly.]  He  —  is 
—  different! 

[HUSBAND  appears  between  poplars  at  en 
trance  of  pergola.  Stands  watching  her  a 

131 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

minute  as  she  sits  absorbed  in  thought. 
Comes  forward. 

HUSBAND 
I  thought  I  should  find  you  here. 

LADY 

{looks  up  and  nods,  smiling  to  him]  You  know 
I'm  always  here,  don't  you?  [He  comes  to  back 
of  her  chair  and  she  lifts  her  face.  He  bends  and 
kisses  it.  Stands  looking  at  her,  half  puzzled,  half 
sad.  Moves  R.  front  to  bench.  She  picks  up  her 
work  and  sews  a  few  stitches.  Then  it  drops  to  her 
lap.]  I've  had  a  present. 

HUSBAND 
A  present  ? 

LADY 

[nods]  And  it  makes  me  so  happy ! 

HUSBAND 

[half  jealously]  What  was  it  you  wanted  ?  / 
could  have  given  it  to  you ! 

LADY 

Oh  —  you  —  give    me    things    every    day  — 
But  this  is  different.  [Stops  as  if  startled  and  re- 
132 


THE  LADY  WITH  WINGS 

peats  thoughtfully.]  This  —  is  —  different.   .   .   . 
You  see  it  is  something  I  needed  very  much 

HUSBAND 

Yes 

LADY 

And  I  didn't  know  I  needed  it  —  till  I  put 
out  my  hand  —  no,  my  foot  [she  laughs  and 
pushes  the  stool  a  little  toward  him]  and  there  it 


was! 


HUSBAND 

[looks     down,     puzzled]  And     there  —  it  — 


was 


LADY 

Right    under    my    feet  —  right    under   your 
eyes ! 

HUSBAND 
Oh  —  that ! 

LADY 

[bending  to  it]  Isn't  it  dear ! 

HUSBAND 

[condescendingly]  Very  pretty. 
133 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

LADY 

[takes  it  up  and  turns  it  in  hand]  We-1-1  — 
not  pretty  exactly.  It  isn't  that! 

HUSBAND 

No? 

LADY 

[shakes  head  and  puts  down  stool.  Puts  feet 
firmly  on  it]  I  like  it! 

HUSBAND 

I  see  you  do.  [Wistfully.]  I  could  have  bought 
you  a  dozen  footstools  —  for  the  garden  —  If 
I'd  known  you  wanted  them. 

LADY 

I  don't  believe  I  could  use  a  dozen,  Teddy ! 
No  —  one  is  quite  enough  —  and  it  wasn't 
bought.  It  was  made  especially  for  me! 

HUSBAND 
Who  made  it  ? 

LADY 
Andrew. 

134 


THE  LADY  WITH  WINGS 

HUSBAND 

[looking  up  quickly,  glancing  at  figure  of  GAR 
DENER  in  background  and  speaking  thoughtfully] 
Andrew  does  a  great  many  things  for  you. 

LADY 

[smiling]  Everything ! 

HUSBAND 
Well  —  not  quite  everything 

LADY 

[nodding  sagely]  Everything  that  I  really 
want  —  You  see  they  are  things  I  don't  know 
I  want !  I  come  out  and  find  them  and  then  I 
know  I've  been  wanting  them  a  long  time ! 
[Speaking  very  seriously]  They  are  beautiful 
things,  too,  sometimes.  When  the  peach-tree  be 
gan  to  blossom  he  brought  my  chair  and  table 
and  put  them  here  under  it.  I  have  been  so 
happy  watching  the  buds  come  out  —  and  the 
perfume  of  the  blossoms  and  the  petals  floating 
down  —  the  ground  is  covered  with  them. 

HUSBAND 

[looks  down  stupidly]  Yes  —  I  see  it  is 

135 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

LADY 

[bends  forward,  smiling  at  him]  How  blind  you 
are,  Teddy ! 

HUSBAND 

[brushing  hand  across  eyes]   Blind ? 

LADY 

[nodding  happily  and  looking  at  him  affection 
ately]  You  don't  see  anything,  do  you  ? 

TOINETTE 

[comes  through  small  door  in  wall,  R.]  The 
dressmaker  is  here,  madame. 

LADY 

[looking  at  her  and  pouting  like  a  child]  I  don't 
want  a  dress,  Toinette.  [Putting  feet  more  firmly 
on  stool.]  I  am  not  going  to  bother ! 

'TOINETTE 

[glancing  at  HUSBAND]  Very  well,  madame. 

HUSBAND 

[looking  at  her  solicitously,  but  speaking  in 
casual  tone]  Oh,  I  guess  you'd  better  go,  Louise. 
You  will  want  the  dress  —  some  day  —  and 
then  it  won't  be  ready. 

136 


THE   LADY  WITH  WINGS 

LADY 

[getting  up]  Well,  I'll  look  at  it,  but  I  won't 
try  it  on [Goes  R.  Maid  follows. 

HUSBAND 

[raising  voice  and  speaking  in  tone  of  authority] 
Andrew ! 

GARDENER 

[comes  slowly  from  rear.  Stops  to  lift  a  vine 
that  has  fallen  down.  HUSBAND  watches  him  nar 
rowly  as  he  comes.]  Good  morning,  sir. 

[The  "sir"  is  spoken  as  if  to  an  equal. 

HUSBAND 

[nods  curtly]  I  want  you  to  clear  the  ground 
to  the  east  there  as  soon  as  possible.  I  am  going 
to  enlarge  the  garden. 

GARDENER 
[looking  back]  It  will  have  to  be  ploughed 

HUSBAND 
[impatiently]  You  attend  to  all  that,  of  course  ! 

GARDENER 

[thoughtfully]  And  the  wall  moved 

137 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

HUSBAND 

Tear  it  down.  Build  new  —  cheapest  in  the 
end.  Get  the  work  on  as  fast  as  you  can.  [Speak 
ing  slowly  and  significantly.}  Your  —  mistress 
has  taken  a  fancy  to  have  it  done  —  and  I 
want  all  her  whims  indulged.  [Hesitates,  walks 
away  a  jew  steps,  picks  a  bit  of  branch  from  tree 
and  breaks  it  in  fingers.}  The  doctor  has  said 
she  must  have  what  she  wants  —  when  it  can 
be  done.  [Looking  at  him  narrowly.}  You  under 
stand  that  she  is  not  well 

GARDENER 

[silent  a  moment]  I  thought  she  had  seemed 
better  —  the  last  few  weeks 

HUSBAND 

[dryly]  The  doctor's  opinion  is  what  we  go  by. 
[His  eye  falls  on  stool  and  he  stops,  face  changes} 
Of  course,  I  appreciate  anything  you  do  for  her. 
[Condescendingly}  She  was  much  pleased  with 
the  little  footstool  you  made. 

GARDENER 

[who  has  turned  to  go,  turns  back,  face  im 
passive}  She  needed  it.  That  chair  is  too  high 

138 


THE  LADY  WITH  WINGS 

—  all  the  seats  here  are  too  high  for  her.  It  tires 
her.  At  first  I  thought  of  cutting  them  down, 
lowering  them.  Then  I  saw  a  footstool  would  do. 

HUSBAND 

You  thought  of  cutting  down  my  garden- 
seats  !  [Glares  at  them  and  at  him. 

GARDENER 

For  Mrs.  Leavitt's  comfort.  .  .  .  She  needs 
special  care  and  watching  just  now  —  sir. 

HUSBAND 

[chokes  something  back]  And  I  shall  see  that 
she  has  it.  [Loftily.]  I  am  responsible  for  her. 
[GARDENER  makes  no  reply.  Seems  looking  at 
something  through  and  beyond  the  man  who  is 
speaking.  HUSBAND  looks  at  him  sharply.}  That 
is  all.  Kindly  report  to  me  as  the  work  goes  on. 

LADY 

[comes  through  door  in  wall,  R.  GARDENER  lifts 
his  hat  to  her  and  moves  away.  She  watches  him 
go.  Turns  to  HUSBAND,  one  hand  lifted  to  breast 
as  if  trying  to  collect  herself.}  Who  is  he,  Teddy  ? 

139 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

HUSBAND 

[tenderly]  Sit  down,  dear  —  you  are  tired. 

[Arranges  footstool  for  her. 

LADY 

[her  eyes  turn  again  to  watch  the  GARDENER] 
Do  —  you  —  know  who  he  is  ? 

HUSBAND 

[laughing  artificially]  What  a  question  !  He  is 
the  gardener  —  Did  you  like  your  dress  ? 

LADY 

My  dress  —  ?  Oh  —  Yes  —  It  does  very 
well.  .  .  .  The  dressmaker  is  a  dear !  And  she 
has  a  very  hard  life. 

HUSBAND 

[looking  vexed,  sharply]  Did  she  talk  to  you 
about  that  ? 

LADY 

She  did  not  need  to  talk  to  me.  I  knew  it. 
She  is  very  tired  and  she  needs  a  rest.  I  want 

some  money  for  her,  Teddy 

140 


THE  LADY  WITH  WINGS 

HUSBAND 

[hand  going  toward  pocket]  What  does  she 
charge  ? 

LADY 

Oh,  it  isn't  a  charge.  I  want  to  give  it  to  her 
—  so  she  can  rest.  She  needs  it  so 

HUSBAND 

[taking  hand  from  pocket]  We  mustn't  spoil 
the  working  people,  you  know. 

LADY 

No,  of  course  not.  ...  I  want  to  give  her 
twenty-five  dollars;  she  could  rest  as  much  as 
two  weeks  if  she  had  twenty-five  dollars.  .  .  . 
I  rest  all  the  time ! 

HUSBAND 
I  will  arrange  about  it. 

LADY 

But  I  want  to  give  it  to  her  myself.  I  think 
it  would  rest  her  to  know  I  thought  of  it  —  for 
her.  [Putting  one  foot  on  stool  and  looking  down.] 
People  like  to  have  things  thought  of  for  them. 
[Holds  out  hand]  I  will  give  it  to  her. 
141 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

HUSBAND 

[vaguely,  waving  it  away]  I  will  see  about  all 
that. 

LADY 

[looks  at  him  and  down  at  footstool  —  and  back 
at  ANDREW,  speaks  softly,  to  herself]  I  wonder 
if  Andrew  could  give  it  to  me.  I  don't  suppose 
he  has  twenty-five  dollars. 

HUSBAND 
Andrew  !  Give  you  twenty-five  dollars  ! 

LADY 
[nods]  He  would  like  to  if  he  had  it  —  I  know. 

HUSBAND 

You  forget  yourself!  [Tenderly.]  You  are  not 
well. 

LADY 

[shaking  head  and  smiling]  No,  I  am  not  well 
—  it  is   the   dressmaker's   eyes   that   hurt   me 
[puts  hand  on  breast]  —  here.  She  needs  to  rest. 
[She  looks  at  him  and  then  at  ANDREW  and 
moves  slowly  toward  him  as  far  as  foun 
tain. 

142 


THE  LADY  WITH  WINGS 

HUSBAND 
[sharply]  Louise! 

LADY 

[turns]  Yes. 

HUSBAND 

[holds  out  bills]  Here  is  your  money. 

LADY 
How  good  you  are,  Teddy ! 

HUSBAND 
Were  you  going  to  ask  Andrew  for  it  ? 

LADY 

Yes  —  He  is  so  good!  [Coming  close  to  him.] 
Who  is  he,  Teddy  ? 

HUSBAND 
He  is  the  gardener. 

LADY 

[slowly]  "He  is  the  gardener" —  His  name 
is  Andrew  Mcllvaine  —  that  is  all  we  know, 
isn't  it  ? 

143 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

HUSBAND 

[laughing  uneasily]  Well,  not  quite.  ...  I 
made  inquiries.  We  must  have  people  about 
that  we  can  trust 

LADY 
Oh,  we  can  trust  Andrew ! 

HUSBAND 

[scowling  a  little}  I  found  out  his  record.  He 
hasn't  always  been  a  gardener.  [She  leans  for 
ward,  looking  at  him  intently.]  He  was  in  business 

—  Wall  Street.  Broke  down  —  went  to  pieces 

—  took  to  the  woods  —  simple  life  —  back  to 
nature  —  all  that  sort  of  thing.  When  he  got 
well  he  didn't  go  back  to  the  Street.  Didn't  have 
the  money,  I  guess  —  or  nerve  or  something. 
Took  up  gardening.  Seems  to  like  it.  [Patroniz 
ingly.]  Makes  a  good  gardener,  too. 

LADY 
[breathless]  Is  that  all ! 

HUSBAND 

[laughing]  All !  I  call  that  quite  enough  —  for 
a  gardener !  Quite  a  romantic  tale !  There  is 
only  one  out  about  him.  [Looking  at  her  closely] 
He  may  forget  his  place  and  who  he  is. 
144 


THE  LADY  WITH  WINGS 

LADY 

[slowly]  I  wonder  what  is  his  place  —  and 
who  he  is  ? 

HUSBAND 

[a  little  roughly,  but  earnestly]  I  want  you  to 
—  [She  is  looking  at  him  with  wide  eyes,  and  his 
own  drop.  Hesitates  a  minute.  Takes  her  hand.] 
See  here,  Louise,  you  are  not  well,  you  know. 

LADY 
[dreamily]  I  am  —  much  —  better. 

HUSBAND 

Don't  you  want  one  of  the  girls  to  come  and 
stay  with  you  a  while?  [Thoughtfully]  Sally 
couldn't  leave  college,  I  suppose,  but  Rose 
could  come.  She'd  better  do  her  settlement 
work  at  home.  .  .  .  It's  a  pity  if  you  have  had 
four  children  —  and  not  one  to  stay  with  you 
now  when  you  need  them ! 

LADY 

[her  eyes  laughing  a  little]  Why  not  have  Jack 
come  home  from  his  ranch  —  to  stay  with 
"mother"? 

145 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

HUSBAND 
Jack  —  ?  Nonsense  ! 

LADY 

Nonsense  for  Rose  —  Isn't  it,  Teddy  ?  I  am 
not  so  old-fashioned  that  I  have  to  lean  on  my 
children.  Besides,  I  don't  need  any  one.  I  feel 
so  safe  and  happy  —  and  loved  ! 

HUSBAND 

[looking  at  her  anxiously  and  stroking  her  hand] 
Yes  —  you  have  me  —  always. 

LADY 
[softly]  And  I  have  —  Andrew ! 

HUSBAND 

[starts]  Louise !  [She  glances  hastily  toward 
GARDENER.  He  speaks  sternly.]  This  is  not  — 
decent ! 

LADY 

It  is  queer  —  isn't  it !  [She  laughs  happily, 
looking  at  him.]  I  never  thought  Fd  say  that  to 
you,  Teddy !  It  just  came  out !  I  opened  my 
mouth  —  and  it  came  out. 

[She  looks  at  him,  half  appealingly,  like  a 
'   child. 

146 


THE  LADY  WITH  WINGS 

HUSBAND 

I  shall  have  Doctor  Trescott  see  you  —  this 
afternoon. 

LADY 

You  think  I  am  out  of  my  head,  don't  you  ? 

HUSBAND 

[protectingly]  I  think  you  are  overwrought 
and  nervous  —  and  tired,  perhaps. 

LADY 

Sit  down,  Teddy.  [Moves  to  bench.]  I  want  to 
tell  you  about  —  Andrew  and  about  every 
thing.  [Waits,  shaking  head  a  little^  It  is  so 
hard  —  to  tell !  I  can't  seem  to  find  words  to 
make  you  —  understand.  I  see  such  strange 
things  —  things  that  I  never  saw  before 

HUSBAND 

[encouragingly]  That  is  right,  Louise  —  tell 
me. 

LADY 

[looks  at  him  a  minute.  Then,  very  meekly  and 
quietly]  I  want  to  be  good!  And  it  makes  me 
feel  queer  !  I  never  wanted  to  be  good  —  before. 
I  went  to  church,  you  know,  and  pretended. 

H7 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

.  .  .  But,  really,  I  was  afraid  I  might  have  to 
be  good  —  and  it  looked  so  dismal  —  being 
good !  .  .  .  Now  I  want  to  be  good! 

[Nods  and  smiles  at  him  gayly. 

HUSBAND 
But  you  wouldn't  go  and  try  on  your  dress. 

LADY 

[quickly]  I  don't  mean  that  kind  of  goodness 
—  I  don't  mean  any  kind  of  goodness  that  you 
do,  I  guess.  You  wouldn't  ever  think  of  the 
goodness  /  mean. 

HUSBAND 

That's  interesting.  [Humoring  her.]  What 
kind  do  you  mean  ? 

LADY 
Oh.  Just  being  happy,  I  guess 

HUSBAND 
Being  happy ! 

LADY 

[nods]  I  used  to  worry,  you  know,  because  I 
couldn't    get    things    for    the    children  —  and 
148 


THE  LADY  WITH  WINGS 

there  was  so  much  suffering  in  the  world.  Some 
times  just  the  thought  of  it  tired  me;  and  I 
would  try  to  get  comfort  making  the  home  - 
sewing  on  buttons,  you  know,  and  darning  socks 
and  keeping  the  nursery  bright  and  clean.  .  .  . 
But  there  was  always  the  little  hurt  —  down 
underneath.  .  .  .  Now  I  know  that  nothing 
matters  except  just  goodness  —  wanting  to 
know  what  is  true,  and  doing  it.  I  feel  cared 
for  —  surrounded.  Nothing  can  hurt  me  or  the 
children,  or  other  children.  We  are  all  in  the 
care  of  a  loving  power.  He  cares  what  happens 
to  us;  and  he  has  all  power.  .  .  .  [Looks  back 
of  her.]  When  I  see  Andrew  taking  care  of  the 
plants,  I  seem  to  see  Christ  beside  him,  walking 
in  the  garden,  bending  to  the  frail  plants,  prun 
ing  the  dead  ones  —  and  always  so  good.  That 
is  the  way  God  cares  for  us,  I  think.  And  we 
can  rest  in  it.  All  we  have  to  do  is  to  grow. 

HUSBAND 

[tenderly}  Yes,  dear  —  all  you  have  to  do  is 
to  be  patient.  [Soothingly  as  if  to  a  child  or  a 
sick  person.]  Everything  will  come  all  right. 
Next  year  you  will  not  even  remember  you  felt 
this  way. 

149 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

LADY 

[leaning  forward  and  looking  at  him  intently} 
How  blind  you  are!  [He  draws  hand  across  eyes.] 
Yes,  blind !  /  used  to  be  blind,  but  now  — 
[Half  whispers,  looking  behind  her.}  There  are 
wonderful  things  —  such  strange  things  about 
us.  ...  And  people  are  different !  I  know  now 
when  they  are  good  —  and  when  they  are  not 
—  and  things  that  I  didn't  guess  before.  I  do 
not  need  to  look  at  them.  I  seem  to  feel  what 
they  are.  Some  of  them  are  dead,  Teddy  —  and 
they  walk  around  and  say  things  and  laugh  and 
smile  —  and  really  they  are  dead  !  It  makes  me 
feel  strange  —  to  look  at  them.  Sometimes  it 
is  all  I  can  do  to  keep  from  crying  out:  "Don't 
you  know  you  are  dead  ?  Please  stop  talking ! 
You  are  dead!" 

HUSBAND 

[getting  up  and  bending  over  her  tenderly.  Speaks 
firmly}  You  must  never  say  it,  Louise ! 

LADY 

No,  I  shall  not  say  it.  [Wistfully}  But  it  is 
hard  sometimes  to  talk  with  them  —  as  if  they 
were  alive. 


THE  LADY  WITH  WINGS 

HUSBAND 
[sharply]  You're  talking  nonsense,  you  know  ! 

LADY 

[leaning  toward  him]  That  is  why  I  say  you 
are  blind  !  I  feel  your  blindness.  [Looking  at  his 
eyes.  Draws  a  sigh.}  Yes,  you  are  blind  ! 

HUSBAND 

[laughs  a  little  uneasily]  Then  all  the  world  is 
blind. 

LADY 

No  —  Andrew  is  not  blind,  nor  Tommie. 
Children  see  —  always.  They  could  tell  us 
things  —  if  we  would  listen.  But  we  hush  them 
up  —  and  they  grow  blind  —  like  us  !  [Shakes 
head]  But  Tommie  sees  —  many  things.  And 
Andrew  sees  —  everything  !  .  .  .  He  is  —  the 
Christ,  I  think ! 

HUSBAND 

[sternly]  You  are  blasphemous !  Andrew  is 
no  more  the  Christ  than  I  am. 

LADY 

[startled  and  speaking  slowly]  No  more  the 
Christ  than  you  are  —  Suppose  that  were  true, 
Teddy ! 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

HUSBAND 

[stirs  uneasily.  Speaks  half  to  himself]  I  don't 
know  that  I  ought  to  keep  the  man. 

LADY 

[cries  out  sharply]  Teddy !  You  will  not  send 
Andrew  away ! 

HUSBAND 
Why  not ! 

LADY 

[half  in  terror]  But  you  must  not  do  that  — 
it  would  kill  me ! 

HUSBAND 

[sternly]  What  has  Andrew  been  saying  to 
you  ? 

LADY 

He  has  not  said  anything !  He  is  kind  to  me 
—  and  to  the  flowers  !  He  cares  for  the  broken 
ones.  He  does  not  expect  they  are  going  to 
give  him  back  something  because  he  is  good  to 
them.  That  is  the  way  I  came  to  know  about 
God  —  seeing  Andrew  in  the  garden.  .  .  .  You 
won't  send  God  out  of  our  garden ! 

[She  has  grown  excited. 
152 


THE  LADY  WITH  WINGS 

HUSBAND 

[quieting  her]  There,  there !  You  must  not  ex 
cite  yourself!  7  shall  protect  you.  Now,  sit 
down  and  do  your  work.  [Puts  sewing  in  her 
hands.}  I  have  to  go  and  look  for  something. 

[Going  into  pergola,  but  does  not  leave  it. 
Opens  vines  at  side  and  looks  outy  watching 
wife. 

[LADY  sews  a  few  stitches.  Takes  handker 
chief  and  dries  eyes.  Looks  about  her  hap- 
pily.  Sees  ANDREW.  Bends  forward  in 
chair,  watching  him.  HUSBAND  in  per- 
gola  watching  her.  She  gets  up  and  goes 
toward  fountain.  Calls  to  ANDREW  and 
goes  back  to  chair.  When  he  approaches 
her  she  points  to  chair  across  table. 

LADY 
Sit  right  down  there  and  talk  to  me ! 

GARDENER 

[sits  downy  smiling]  What  shall  I  say  ? 

LADY 

[drawing  a  sigh  of  happiness]  Nothing.  You 
don't  need  to  talk.  Just  sit  there !  [Sits  a  minute 

153 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

with  hands  folded,  looking  at  him.}  You  are  very 
young  to-day. 

GARDENER 
A  day  older  than  I  was  yesterday. 

LADY 

[shakes  head]  No  —  you  are  young  —  very 
young.  [Leans  forward,  scanning  his  face.  He  has 
taken  off  his  hat  and  is  leaning  forward,  relaxed, 
looking  before  him.}  You  are  just  a  boy  —  to-day  ! 

GARDENER 

[looking  at  her  and  smiling}  How  do  you 
know  ? 

LADY 

I  always  know.  I  don't  need  even  to  look  at 
you  —  You  are  never  the  same,  you  know. 

GARDENER 
Nobody  is. 

LADY 

But  I  never  knew  —  till  now.  I  always 
thought  everybody  was  the  same  always  — 
doctor,  lawyer,  merchant,  priest,  you  know  — 
and  always  growing  up,  a  day  at  a  time,  and 

154 


THE  LADY  WITH  WINGS 

getting  old.  Now  I  know  people  are  different  — 
every  day.  Some  days  a  storekeeper  doesn't 
feel  a  bit  like  a  storekeeper,  he  feels  like  a  boy 

—  just  like  a  small  boy;  he  would  like  to  run 
away  and  go  fishing,  but  he  covers  it  up  tight  — 
just  goes  on  selling  cheese  and  things  —  /  know 

—  even  if  he  does  cover  it  up.  I  don't  look  with 
these  eyes,   I  guess.   [She  covers  them  with  her 
hands  a  minute;  then  takes  down  hands  with  quick 
gesture,  palms  out  to  him.]  Oh,  it  is  so  good  to 
be  with  you  !  —  and  to  say  anything  that  comes 
into  my  head.  .  .  .  You  don't  think  I  am  crazy, 
do  you  ? 

GARDENER 

[looking  at  her  quietly}  I  think  you  are  just 
beginning  —  to  see 

LADY 

[nods  eagerly]  But  it  isn't  easy,  some  days,  to 
hold  steady.  ...   I  see  such  strange  things  — 

and  no  one  knows 

[She  is  looking  before  her  as  if  half  afraid. 

GARDENER 

You  must  not  be  afraid. 
155 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

LADY 
I  am  not  afraid  —  with  you.  You  are  good! 

GARDENER 

[looking  at  her  narrowly]  Then  I  am  —  always 

—  the  same  ? 

LADY 

No  —  no  —  NO  !  You  change  —  more  than 
any  one,  I  think.  Yesterday  when  I  went  out 
in  the  garden  where  you  were,  you  were  so  tall 
and  strong  you  seemed  to  fill  the  garden  —  you 
were  like  some  great  physician.  I  felt  as  if — if 
I  put  out  my  hand  a  little  way  and  touched  you 

—  I  could  be  well.  ...  I  had  to  keep  saying  to 
myself:  "It  is  Andrew;  it  is  only  our  gardener; 
it  is  no  one  but  Andrew."  Why  are  you  so 
strange  ?   [Waiting  a   minute  —  then  under  her 
breath.]  I  feel  so  near  you  —  and  strange  ! 

GARDENER 

[looking  at  her  narrowly]  Don't  you  know  that 
the  fight  never  stops  ?  Some  days  we  gain  a 
little  —  and  some  days  we  —  lose. 

[He  gets  up,  irresolute,  and  moves  away  a  few 
steps. 


THE  LADY  WITH  WINGS 

LADY 

[watching  him,  starts  to  her  feet]  But  —  what 
is  it !  Something  is  wrong !  [Puts  hand  to  her 
breast.  He  has  turned  and  is  facing  her.]  Your 
face  is  — !  I  never  saw  it  before.  It  is  like  — 
[He  stands  very  straight  and  quiet,  looking  at  her, 
and  she  comes  nearer  to  him,  fascinated.]  It  is  — 
you  are  —  you  are  Mephistopheles  !  See  !  [She 
grows  excited.]  Your  hands  and  shoulders  —  and 
your  feet !  Oh,  you  must  not  —  look  —  like  that! 
[She  covers  her  face,  shrinking  back.  He  has  put 
his  hands  behind  him  as  she  points  to  them;  and, 
as  he  stands,  his  shoulders  stoop  a  little.  She 
takes  down  her  hands  and  looks  at  him  and  draws 
a  quick  breath]  You  are  —  yourself. 

GARDENER 
[smiling]  Yes. 

LADY 

[comes  nearer,  trustfully]  There  are  lines  in 
your  forehead,  little  lines  going  crisscross.  Per 
haps  they  are  thoughts.  [Looks  at  them  intently 
and  nods]  Yes,  I  think  they  are  —  little 
thoughts.  [Puts  out  hands  impulsively]  Oh,  you 
rest  me !  You  have  no  idea  how  I  rest  in 
you ! 

157 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

GARDENER 
[looking  before  him]  I  want  you  to. 

LADY 

[wo<fj]  Yes.  [With  sudden  thought.]  You  will 
not  go  away  —  you  will  not  leave  me,  ever  ? 

GARDENER 

[silent  a  moment]  Not  while  you  need  me. 

[Singing  is  heard  here. 

LADY 
I  shall  always  —  need  you 


GARDENER 

No.  Only  a  little  while  —  now.  .  .  .  My  work 
is  nearly  done. 

LADY 

[glancing  behind  her]  We  are  going  to  enlarge 
—  the  garden.  There  will  be  a  great  deal  to  do ! 

GARDENER 

Some  one  else  will  enlarge  the  garden.  .  .  . 
You  will  not  miss  me. 


THE  LADY  WITH  WINGS 

LADY 

[slowly,  as  if  the  thought  came  while  she  spoke] 
I  can  —  not  live  —  without  —  you ! 

GARDENER 
How  many  times  have  you  thought  that  ? 

LADY 
Never  before 

GARDENER 

Not  that  —  but  something  like  that.  There 
is  always  something  we  cannot  live  without. 

LADY 

[looking  before  her,  startled,  speaking  slowly] 
That  is  true !  I  have  always  been  like  that  — 
reaching  out  my  hands  —  and  eager  for  the 
things  I  must  have !  I  remember,  before  I  was 
married,  I  was  so  afraid  Teddy  might  not  ask 
me  —  to  marry  him.  I  felt  as  if  I  should  die  if 
he  did  not  ask  me  !  Poor  —  old  —  Ted  !  How 
strange  it  seems  that  I  should  have  thought  I 
should  die  if  I  could  not  marry  Teddy.  .  .  . 
And  there  were  the  children  !  I  wanted  two  boys 
and  two  girls  —  and  they  came.  .  .  .  They  are 
gone.  [She  opens  her  hands  with  a  little  gesture^ 

159 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

It  is  so  strange !  .  .  .  There  have  been  little 
things,  too  —  always  so  eager !  It  was  as  if  I 
were  afraid  —  to  wait  —  as  if  something  — - 
some  terrible  Thing  were  determined  I  should 
not  have  them  —  and  I  must  wish  them  true 
or  they  would  be  snatched  away  forever.  .  .  . 
I  remember  when  we  first  came  here,  I  wanted 
Mrs.  Sidborn  [moves  hand,  L.],  the  big  house  on 
the  hill,  you  know  - 

GARDENER 

[looks  at  her  quickly  as  she  mentions  name}  Yes 
—  I  know. 

LADY 

I  wanted  her  to  call  on  me.  I  had  such  a 
curious  feeling  about  her.  I  wanted  her  to  call 
[laughs  happily]  —  well,  partly,  I  suppose,  be 
cause  she  was  important.  [Grows  grave.}  But 
it  wasn't  really  that  —  I  wanted  to  know  her. 
.  .  .  And  she  didn't  come! 

GARDENER 
You  did  not  really  need  her,  then. 

LADY 

I  thought  I  did.  And  I  longed  so  for  it.  I 
used  to  get  up  in  the  morning  wondering  if  she 
160 


THE  LADY  WITH  WINGS 

would  come.  But  the  other  day  I  saw  it  didn't 
matter,  after  all.  ...  I  can't  seem  to  ex 
plain  

GARDENER 

It  doesn't  need  explaining,  does  it  ?  People 
come  when  we  are  ready  for  them. 

LADY 

Do  they  ?  [Looking  puzzled.  Face  lightens.] 
You  came  —  and  how  I  needed  you !  And 
I  did  not  even  know  I  needed  you  or  that  you 
were  here.  I  thought  you  were  Andrew,  the 
gardener.  .  .  .  And  all  the  time,  it  was  —  you  ! 
.  .  .  It  was  you!  [She  holds  out  her  hands  im 
pulsively  and  the  GARDENER  looks  at  them  and 
then  at  her  face,  and  smiles.  Her  hands  drop  and 
she  stands  looking  at  him  happily.  HUSBAND  in 
pergola  pushes  vines  apart  and  looks  out  at  them. 
Sound  of  horn  and  motor  stopping  outside.  LADY 
turns.]  Some  one  has  come ! 

[HUSBAND  retreats  through  gate. 

GARDENER 

[moves  toward  wall,  R.,  looking  over]  It  is  —  a 

car  —  from  the  hill 

161 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

LADY 

Mrs.  Sidborn's  car  —  Perhaps  she  has  come ! 
.  .  .  But  I  don't  need  her  —  now ! 

GARDENER 

[coming  back  to  her]  We  don't  always  know 
—  do  we  ? 

[He  is  standing  with  his  back  to  the  door  in 
the  wall  and  as  it  opens  he  moves  toward  the 
rear  of  the  garden.  MAID  comes  through 
door,  followed  by  MRS.  SIDBORN. 

MRS.  SIDBORN 

[coming  toward  LADY,  catches  sight  of  GAR 
DENER  and  stops,  looking  after  him]  Who  is  — 
that! 

[LADY  half  turns  and  they  watch  him  as  he 
passes  out  of  sight,  L.  rear. 

LADY 
You  see  it  —  too ! 

MRS.  SIDBORN 
See  what  ? 

LADY 

[turning  back  and  holding  out  hand]  I  am  so 
glad  you  have  come ! 

162 


THE  LADY  WITH  WINGS 
MRS.  SIDBORN 

I  meant  to  come  before. 

LADY 
I  know !  It  wasn't  time 

MRS.  SIDBORN 

[holding  both  her  hands  and  looking  at  her  af 
fectionately]  You  have  come  a  long  way ! 

LADY 

Have  I  —  ?  [Wistfully.]  Sometimes  I  feel  as 
if  I  had  not  stirred  a  step.  .  .  .  It  is  like  a  dream 
—  one  of  those  dreadful  dreams,  you  know, 
when  you  cannot  move  hand  or  foot 

MRS.  SIDBORN 
I  know. 

LADY 

Sit  down.  [They  move  toward  bench.]  And  I 
thought  I  did  not  need  you,  but  I  do !  Oh,  I 
do !  ...  Andrew  said  I  needed  you ! 

MRS.  SIDBORN 
Your  husband  said  ? 

163 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

LADY 

Not  my  husband.  My  —  my  —  gardener! 
He  takes  care  of  the  flowers  —  and  of  me ! 
[Leans  toward  her  a  little.}  You  mustn't  think  I 
am  crazy,  will  you ! 

MRS.    SlDBORN 

[putting  hand  over  one  of  hers]  I  do  not  think. 
...  I  know  —  that  you  are  coming  along  a 
strange  road.  .  .  . 

LADY 

[nods  eagerly]  Yes  —  and  there  are  things  — 
such  queer  things  —  I  never  dreamed  of 

MRS.    SlDBORN 
We  don't  dream  them  —  till  they  come. 

LADY 

[eagerly,  with  happy  sigh]  Oh  —  I  can  tell  you ! 
I  can  tell  you ! 

MRS.  SIDBORN 

Anything  you  like  —  or  you  can  be  silent. 
164 


THE  LADY  WITH  WINGS 

LADY 

I  can  be  silent.  ...  I  cannot  be  silent  with 

Teddy,  you  know.  I  always  have  to  explain  — 

and  explain  —  and  explain  !          [Spreads  hands. 

[Chant  of  voices  heard  at  intervals  during  the 

following  conversation. 

LADY 

[repeats  words  of  the  chant.  Turns  and  sees 
ANDREW  at  work}  It  is  so  strange  —  about  An 
drew.  .  .  .  Sometimes  he  looks  like  any  of  us. 
Just  a  common  man  —  in  his  old  clothes.  .  .  . 
And  then,  in  a  minute,  he  is  changed  and  I 
see  a  face  looking  out  at  me  —  oh,  so  sad ! 
Sometimes  I  want  to  cry  !  .  .  .  And  then  I  look 
again  —  and  it  is  Andrew !  [Looks  at  her  ear 
nestly}  Can  you ? 

MRS.    SlDBORN 

[nodding]  I  understand  —  yes.  [LADY  covers 
eyes  with  quick  hands.  MRS.  SID  BORN  puts  arm 
around  her  and  draws  her  to  her]  I  understand. 
.  .  .  There,  there !  ...  It  will  do  you  good. 

LADY 

[looking  up}  No  one  has  understood  —  and  I 
couldn't  tell  —  any  one  ! 

165 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 
MRS.  SIDBORN 

Only  a  woman  could  understand  —  what  you 
are  trying  to  say.  .  .  .  Only  a  very  old  woman, 

perhaps,  like  me 

LADY 

You  are  not  old ! 

MRS.  SIDBORN 

I  hope  so !  ...  Don't  you  know  that  we 
women  only  begin  to  see  —  when  we  are  old  ? 

LADY 

Only  begin  —  to  see  — !  [Eagerly.]  Then  they 
are  true  —  they  are  true  —  the  things  I  see  — 
and  feel  ? 

MRS.  SIDBORN 

Some  of  them  are  true.  You  are  coming  home 
with  me  now  and  we  will  have  luncheon  to 
gether  and  talk  —  and  rest. 

LADY 

And  rest  — !  [Holding  out  hands]  Oh,  I  am 
tired! 

MRS.  SIDBORN 
I  know. 

[HUSBAND  comes  through  pergola. 

166 


THE  LADY  WITH  WINGS 

LADY 

I  am  going  to  lunch  with  Mrs.  Sidborn, 
Teddy.  .  .  .  This  is  Mrs.  Sidborn.  [They  shake 
hands.}  She  has  come  for  me.  I'll  get  my  hat. 
I  won't  be  a  minute ! 

[She  goes  out  green  door,  R. 

HUSBAND 

[looking  after  her]  I  am  not  sure  she  ought  — 
to  go  —  she  has  not  been  outside  the  garden  for 
nearly  a  year  now. 

MRS.  SIDBORN 
I  will  take  good  care  of  her.  Be  sure 


HUSBAND 
She  is  —  excitable  —  at  times 

MRS.  SIDBORN 

I  understand.  You  need  not  be  afraid.  You 
can  trust  her  —  with  me. 

HUSBAND 

I  am  not  afraid  for  her  —  but  —  [Pauses 
awkwardly.}  The  fact  is  —  I  don't  know  whether 
it  is  safe  for  you  —  or  for  any  of  us.  [Moves 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

nervously  a  few  steps  and  comes  back.]  I  might 
as  well  tell  you.  The  doctor  thinks  she's  not  — 
altogether  —  right.  [He  looks  ashamed. 

MRS.  SIDBORN 
[looks  at  him  and  smiles]  Poor  man ! 

HUSBAND 
[stiffly]  You  will  not  mention  it,  of  course. 

MRS.  SIDBORN 
How  blind  you  are ! 

HUSBAND 

[starts]  How  —  blind  —  ?  [Wonder ingly.]  She 
said  I  was  blind,  too ! 

MRS.  SIDBORN 

[nodding]  Stone-blind.  .  .  .  There  are  things 
going  on  in  the  garden  here  that  would  startle 
you  —  if  you  could  see. 

HUSBAND 

[darkly]  I  have  seen  more  than  you  think  — 
more  than  I  want  to  see,  I  can  tell  you ! 
168 


THE  LADY  WITH  WINGS 
MRS.  SIDBORN 

[shaking  head]  You  have  seen  only  the  ap 
pearance  of  things.  The  real  things  are  hidden 
from  you. 

[Chant  of  voices  heard.  She  stands  listening, 
a  happy  look  in  her  face.  ANDREW  seen  at 
work  in  background. 

HUSBAND 

[moves  vaguely  as  if  disturbed  by  unseen  things] 
I  think  I  ought  to  telephone  Doctor  Tres- 
cott 

MRS.  SIDBORN 

By  all  means,  if  you  would  feel  more  com 
fortable. 

[She  sits  down.  HUSBAND  goes  out  through 
pergola.  Chant  of  voices.  TOMMIE,  who  has 
moved  nearer  front,  is  looking  shyly  behind 
trees  and  bushes. 

MRS.  SIDBORN 

[sees  him,  holds  out  hand,  smiling]  Were  you 
looking  for  some  one  ? 

TOMMIE 

No'm  —  no,  Mrs. 

169 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 
MRS.  SIDBORN 

Come  here.  .  .  .  What  did  you  think  you 
heard  ? 

TOMMIE 

[standing  before  her,  digging  toes  in  ground] 
Nothin' ! 

MRS.  SIDBORN 

[she  looks  at  him  and  smiles.  A  smile  comes 
slowly  into  TOMMIE'S  face;  he  nods  shyly}  Tell 
me  —  do  you  often  —  hear  them  ? 

TOMMIE 
[stoutly]  I  didn't  hear  nothin'. 

MRS.  SIDBORN 
Nor  see  anything  ? 

TOMMIE 

[begins  to  shake  head.  Stops  and  comes  close  to 
her]  I  wisht  I  could  —  see  'em  !  How  —  do  — 
you  do  it  ?  [MRS.  SIDBORN  looks  at  him  and 
smiles.  Chant  of  voices  plainly  heard.}  I  wisht  — 
I  —  could  see  somethin'.  .  .  .  Could  I  ? 

MRS.  SIDBORN 

[shaking  head}  I  am  afraid  you  will  never  see 
them,  Tommie.  Only  women  see  them  —  very 
old  women. 

170 


THE  LADY  WITH  WINGS 

TOMMIE 

Do  you ? 

MRS.    SlDBORN 

Am  I  old  enough,  do  you  think  ? 

TOMMIE 

[smiles  at  her  shyly]  I  guess  you  see  'em  ! 
[He  retreats  slowly,  looking  at  her.  Comes  to  a 
bush  and  stops  to  peer  in.  Voices  heard 
softly.  ANDREW,  L.  rear,  with  piece  of  wire. 
Begins  tying  up  vines.  Sees  woman  on 
bench  and  stops.  She  does  not  see  him.  Sits 
with  bent  head,  listening.  He  stops  by 
fountain,  looking  at  her.  HUSBAND  comes 
through  pergola  and  ANDREW  turns  away. 

HUSBAND 

[approaching  bench]  Doctor  Trescott  says  it  is 
all  right. 

MRS.    SlDBORN 

[looking  up  bewildered.  Brushes  hand  across 
forehead]  Oh  —  yes  —  I  had  forgotten  —  you 
were  gone  —  a  long  time  ! 

HUSBAND 

[looking  at  watch]  Line  busy.  Louise  hasn't 
come  ? 

171 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

MRS.    SlDBORN 

No. 

HUSBAND 

[taking  cigar  from  pocket]  Would  you  mind  if 
I  —  smoke  ? 

MRS.  SlDBORN 

Not  in  the  least. 

[While  he  lights  cigar,  TOMMIE  and  ANDREW 
are  seen  together  in  background. 

HUSBAND 

[throwing  away  match]  I  am  bothered  about 
—  my  wife 

MRS.  SlDBORN 
She  is  a  brave  woman. 

HUSBAND 

Louise  —  ?  [Shakes  head.]  You  are  wrong 
there.  She  happens  to  be  very  timid  —  almost 
a  coward. 

MRS.  SIDBORN 

Was  she  a  coward  when  her  children  came  ? 
172 


THE  LADY  WITH  WINGS 

HUSBAND 

By  George,  you're  right !  You  never  saw  such 
pluck !  When  Jackie  was  born  —  he  was  our 
first  one,  you  know 

MRS.  SIDBORN 

She  was  brave  then  —  when  her  child  came; 
she  is  brave  now  while  the  spirit  is  being  born. 

HUSBAND 

[taking  out  cigar  and  looking  at  it  thoughtfully] 
What  do  you  mean  by  that  ? 

MRS.  SIDBORN 

You  don't  see  that  it  takes  courage,  do  you 
—  for  a  woman  to  grow  old  ? 

HUSBAND 

[gallantly]  It  doesn't  seem  to  hurt  them  — 
some  of  them ! 

MRS.  SIDBORN 

Suppose  you  felt  the  world  falling  away 
under  your  feet,  disappearing  inch  by  inch  [he 
shifts  his  feet  uneasily]  and  there  was  nothing 
left  to  stand  on  —  and  still  you  had  to  keep 
standing  —  had  to  learn  how 

173 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

HUSBAND 

[moves  forward  hastily]  Say  —  sit  down  !  [She 
sits  down  and  he  seats  himself  beside  her,  mopping 
face.]  I  believe  you  could  help  me  about  Louise 
—  if  you  wouldn't  mind  my  talking  ? 

MRS.   SlDBORN 
Tell  me  —  what  you  like. 

HUSBAND 

[smoking  thoughtfully]  She's  queer.  .  .  .  But 
it  isn't  that  altogether.  She's  so  far  away  — 
and  she  seems  farther  all  the  time  —  She's 
right  here  in  the  garden,  you  know  —  doesn't 
see  anybody,  week  in  and  week  out,  except  me 
-and  the  gardener  there.  .  .  .  [Bends forward, 
speaks  confidentially]  To  tell  you  the  truth,  I 
don't  dare  to  have  her  go  anywhere.  Sometimes 
I  think  she  would  apply  for  —  a  divorce  —  if 
she  got  a  chance.  I've  heard  women  do  —  that 
sort  of  thing.  [Looks  at  her  inquiringly. 

MRS.    SlDBORN 
[nodding]  It  is  a  critical  time  for  her. 

HUSBAND 

That's  what  Doctor  Trescott  says.  He  says 
not  to  pay  any  attention  to  her  queerness. 

174 


THE  LADY  WITH  WINGS 

But  it  takes  pretty  steady  steering,  not  to.  You 
don't  know,  two  minutes  running,  what  she  is 
going  to  say  —  or  do. 

MRS.   SlDBORN 

She  is  in  a  highly  sensitized  condition.  She 
sees  and  feels  things  that  have  never  touched 
her  before.  She  is  using  a  new  power  and  some 
times  she  gets  confused  and  tries  to  use  the  old 
method  with  it  and  there  is  a  queer  cross  con 
fusion  in  what  she  says. 

HUSBAND 
Do  you  mean  she  is  —  insane  ? 

MRS.  SIDBORN 
[shakes  head,  smiling]  Not  unless  I  am  insane. 

HUSBAND 

Do  you  see  and  feel  things  [looking  about  him 
uneasily]  —  that  way  ? 

MRS.  SIDBORN 

Very  much  the  same,  I  suspect.  But  I  have 
had  a  longer  time  to  get  used  to  them.  ...  I 
have  ceased  to  trust  my  own  judgment  or  to 

175 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

make  decisions.  .  .  .  That  is  why  I  turned  in 
here  to-day.  I  was  going  by  —  and  I  came  in 
your  gate. 

HUSBAND 
Without  any  reason ! 

MRS.  SIDBORN 
[smiling]  Without  any  reason  —  except  this. 

HUSBAND 

You  thought  of  something  you  wanted  to 
say  —  I  suppose  ?  [She  is  shaking  her  head,  smil 
ing.]  Say  —  could  anybody  get  on  to  this  — 
this  power  thing  ?  .  .  .  Could  7  do  it  ? 

MRS.  SIDBORN 
Do  you  feel  as  if  you  could  ? 

HUSBAND 
I  certainly  do  not! 

MRS.  SIDBORN 

You  never  had  a  vague  sense  that  some  one 
wiser  than  yourself  was  speaking  through  you 
—  working  through  you  ? 


THE  LADY  WITH  WINGS 

HUSBAND 

[hesitates.  Speaks  bluntly]  If  you  mean,  have 
I  had  delusions  ?  I  have  not!  [Proudly.]  Of 
course,  some  days  a  man  is  in  better  form  than 
others,  thinks  more  clearly,  decides  quickly  — 
and  all  that 

MRS.  SIDBORN 
You  mean  fine  physical  condition  ? 

HUSBAND 
Yes. 

MRS.  SIDBORN 

[shakes  head]  Sometimes  the  best  physical 
condition  shuts  one  out  —  a  prize-fighter  does 
not  see  the  truth  or  understand  life  best.  .  .  . 

HUSBAND 

[bluntly]  I  don't  believe  a  half-sick  woman 
does,  either ! 

MRS.  SIDBORN 

[leaning  forward]  May  I  talk  about  myself  — 
a  little  ? 

HUSBAND 

[encouragingly]  Go  ahead. 
177 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

MRS.    SlDBORN 

It  is  ten  years,  I  think,  since  I  began  to  guess 
that  life  was  not  over  for  me  —  that  I  was  not 
merely  an  old  woman  with  a  few  more  years 
ahead. 

HUSBAND 

[protests  politely]   You  are  not 

MRS.    SlDBORN 

[puts  up  hand]  Thank  you.  You  are  most 
kind  —  and  courteous.  [Smiles.]  But  I  am  going 
to  make  a  claim  that  even  you  may  not  grant 
—  I  am  younger  than  I  ever  was.  [He  sits  with 
hands  in  pockets,  smoking  thoughtfully  and  watch 
ing  her.]  It  began  when  I  was  about  your  wife's 
age.  ...  I  had  always  looked  forward  to  that 
time  with  dread.  ...  I  thought  it  was  the  end. 
I  should  live  a  few  years  longer,  growing  each 
year  a  little  more  feeble  and  wrinkled  and  un 
desirable,  and  take  to  knitting-work  and  easy 
shoes  —  and  die.  .  .  .  [He  removes  cigar  with 
polite  gesture.}  No  —  wait.  ...  I  was  so  sure 
of  it  all  —  that  the  Lord  of  the  heavens  and 
the  earth  would  do  a  stupid  thing  like  that  — 
old  ladies  and  knitting-work ! 


THE  LADY  WITH  WINGS 

HUSBAND 

[removing  cigar.  Mouth  open]  The  —  Lord  ! 

MRS.    SlDBORN 

[nods  and  laughs]  And  I  did  not  feel  old.  I 
could  not  understand  it !  I  was  like  a  child.  I 
was  being  transformed  in  spirit,  day  by  day, 
before  my  own  eyes  —  and  no  one  knew  or 
guessed.  It  was  literally  the  change  of  life  for 
me  —  there  are  such  wise  old  phrases  in  the 
language  and  no  one  guesses  what  they  mean ! 
I  had  expected  to  change  into  an  old,  old  woman 
and  I  was  a  child  !  I  wanted  to  be  loved  and 
cared  for  by  some  one.  I  wanted  to  feel  safe 

HUSBAND 

[eagerly]  That's  the  way  Louise  is !  She  likes 
it  in  the  garden  here. 

MRS.  SIDBORN 

Yes.  [Sits  looking  before  her,  musingly]  The 
caterpillar  likes  the  snug  darkness  and  safety 
of  the  cocoon. 

HUSBAND 
Caterpil ! 

179 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 
MRS.  SIDBORN 

And  then  the  spirit  comes  —  with  wings.  I 
often  wonder  how  the  caterpillar  feels  when 
those  first  waking  stirrings  come  —  there  in  the 
dark.  .  .  .  And  it  begins  to  suspect  it  is  some 
thing  besides  —  an  old  lady  with  knitting-work  ! 

HUSBAND 

[starts  up  with  a  little  exclamation,  looks  at  her 
suspiciously}  I  —  say 


MRS.  SIDBORN 

[laughing]  Sit  down.  I  am  not  out  of  my  head. 
[He  sits  down  a  little  removed,  watching  her  nar 
rowly.}  My  husband  felt  the  same  way.  I  think 
I  stopped  caring  for  him  —  I  didn't  seem  to 
care. 

HUSBAND 

That's  the  way  Louise  acts ! 

MRS.  SIDBORN 
You  must  be  patient  —  and  wait. 

HUSBAND 

I  don't  mind  waiting  —  but  —  [Glances  behind 
him  at  GARDENER.  Moves  nearer  to  her}  There 
is  a  man  here  —  that  I  am  afraid  of  —  for  her. 
1 80 


THE  LADY  WITH  WINGS 

MRS.    SlDBORN 

What  does  he  do  ? 

HUSBAND 

Everything  —  for  her.  .  .  .  It's  a  different 
case,  you  see.  [He  looks  at  her  and  she  shakes 
her  head  slowly.  He  stares.}  Do  you  mean  to 
say ! 

MRS.    SlDBORN 

Yes. 

HUSBAND 

[smokes  a  minute}  Women  are  all  alike. 

[Dryly. 

MRS.    SlDBORN 

And  men  are  alike  and  we  don't  dare  con 
fess  it  —  we  cover  up  and  pretend  and  sham 
—  and  all  the  time  nature  is  trying  to  tell  us 
things  and  we  blur  her  greatness  with  our  little 
thoughts,  our  feebleness  and  flesh.  .  .  .  What 
kind  of  man  is  he,  this  gardener  of  yours  ? 

HUSBAND 

Well  —  the  kind  doesn't  make  much  differ 
ence,  does  it  ?  He  is  a  man. 

181 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 
MRS.  SIDBORN 

All  the  difference  in  the  world.  ...  I  had 
known  a  man  for  years  —  he  was  a  broker,  my 
husband's  partner,  and  I  had  seen  him  a  hun 
dred  times  —  and  not  guessed.  But  when  I  came 
to  see  and  feel  people  as  they  really  were  —  and 
not  as  they  seemed  to  be  or  pretended  to  be  — 
I  saw  that  he  was  different.  ...  I  trusted  him 
so !  [She  sits  looking  before  her.]  Then  I  was  in 
love  with  him 

HUSBAND 

[glances  uneasily  back  at  the  GARDENER]  Did 
he  know  ? 

MRS.  SIDBORN 

I  told  him  —  yes.  .  .  .  You  see  I  loved  his 
goodness.  [He  looks  at  end  of  cigar  with  a  little 
cynical  smile.]  You  are  as  blind  as  I  was  —  as 
blind  as  my  husband  was. 

HUSBAND 

What  happened  —  if  you  don't  mind  telling 
me  ? 

MRS.  SIDBORN 

I  want  to  tell  you.  But  I  am  not  sure  you  will 
understand.  For  weeks,  for  months  —  for  a 

182 


THE  LADY  WITH  WINGS 

year  and  more  —  I  lived  in  his  strength.  I 
steadied  myself  by  his  goodness.  .  .  .  While 
the  spirit  was  coming  to  life.  .  .  .  [Turns  to 
him.]  Do  you  know  why  we  worship  mother 
hood  and  womanhood  —  ?  It  is  not  because 
physical  life  is  born  of  them,  but  because  they 
themselves  are  the  spirit  children  of  the  race. 

HUSBAND 

What  about  —  the  man 

[Glances  toward  GARDENER. 

MRS.    SlDBORN 

I  wonder  if  you  would  understand  ?  I  think 
he  would  have  gone  away  with  me  if  I  had  said 
the  word.  But  we  were  held  by  something  — 
something  greater  than  ourselves.  I  knew  that 
I  was  not  in  love  with  him,  but  with  the  good 
ness  —  something  far  within  him.  Sometimes 
it  looked  out  at  me  —  such  a  sad,  strange  face, 
and  I  loved  it.  ...  And  I  knew  I  should  never 
rest  until,  when  I  looked  at  him,  I  should  see 
only  that  face.  ...  I  was  so  unhappy  —  and 
so  glad.  .  .  .  Then,  it  was  one  night  at  twilight 
I  sat  alone  at  the  piano  playing,  just  one  thing 
and  another,  idly;  and  I  found  a  ragtime  piece 
one  of  the  boys  had  brought  from  college;  it 

183 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

was  a  silly  thing  —  but  there  was  a  strange 
chord  in  it,  and  when  my  ringers  found  it  and 
played  it,  something  happened  to  me,  and  I 
sat  with  the  tears  running  down  my  face,  play 
ing  ragtime  —  with  a  deep,  still  joy  coming  to 
me,  and  my  little  dog  came  trotting  across  and 
put  his  paws  on  my  lap  and  looked  up  and  I 
just  gathered  him  up  in  my  arms  and  cried 
and  cried. 

HUSBAND 

[takes  out  handkerchief  and  blows  nose]  It 
sounds  queer ! 

MRS.    SlDBORN 

Yes.  I  should  not  make  up  a  conversion  like 
that.  .  .  .  After  that  night  I  saw  only  the 
beautiful  face  I  loved  —  when  he  was  near 
me.  .  .  . 

HUSBAND 
Did  you  tell  him  —  about  it  ? 

MRS.  SIDBORN 

Everything.  ...  He  understood  so  well! 
Let  me  tell  you.  [Bends  toward  him.]  It  is  a 
happy  woman  when  the  spirit  time  is  come,  that 
finds  herself  in  the  presence  of  a  good  man. 


THE  LADY  WITH  WINGS 

It  will  not  be  her  husband.  He  has  been  a  pas 
sion  mate.  This  man  will  belong  to  her  by 
spirit  —  and  he  will  not  fail  her.  We  hear  so 
much  of  the  lower  nature  of  men  and  the  dif 
ferent  law  for  a  man;  but  no  one  has  revealed 
the  gentleness  and  goodness  of  men's  hearts 
when  women  in  travail  of  spirit  turn  to  them. 
It  is  as  if  God  himself  unveiled  his  face  and 
looked  at  them,  and  said:  "It  is  well  with  you, 
child.  You  need  not  fear!" 

HUSBAND 

[breaks  out]  I  say  —  You're  talking  the  first 
good  sense  I've  heard  in  three  months.  I've 
been  pretty  near  out  of  my  head  —  trying  to 
keep  things  running  along  kind  of  smooth ! 
Couldn't  seem  to  get  a  line  on  Louise.  I  see  it 
all  now,  clear  as  daylight  —  she's  kind  of  half 
in  this  world  and  half  in  another ? 

MRS.    SlDBORN 

Yes  —  she  is  being  drawn  toward  goodness 
and  truth.  It  is  working  as  inevitably  as  the 
impulse  toward  achievement  and  business  suc 
cess  and  prosperity  was  at  work  in  you  in  your 
early  life.  But  you  were  not  moving  away  from 

185 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

your  wife.  You  improved  your  position,  but 
you  did  not  leave  her  behind  —  you  were 
married  for  better  or  for  worse. 

HUSBAND 

But  Louise  wanted  to  get  on  —  as  much  as  I 
did,  and  more  —  for  the  children,  and  all. 

MRS.    SlDBORN 

And  don't  you  want  to  grow  in   spirit  —  as 
much  as  she  does  —  and  more  ? 


HUSBAND 

[a  little  crestfallen]  Well  —  maybe 

MRS.  SIDBORN 


She  has  no  more  thought  or  wish  to  leave 
you  —  than  that.  But  she  must  seek  goodness 
—  and  truth.  It  has  become  as  crying  a  need 
of  her  nature  as  success  and  prosperity  for  you. 
For  twenty-five  years  you  have  controlled  her 
destiny.  Now  she  will  control  herself  and  she 
will  be  to  you  in  the  spirit  life  what  you  have 
been  to  her.  She  must  seek  goodness  wherever 
she  finds  it  —  whether  in  your  gardener  or  in 
you. 

1 86 


THE  LADY  WITH  WINGS 

HUSBAND 

You  mean  that  unless  I  become  pious  I  am 
going  to  lose  Louise!  [Smoking furiously. 

MRS.    SlDBORN 

Not  unless  you  become  pious  —  unless  you 
become  good. 

HUSBAND 

All  the  same,  isn't  it  ? 

MRS.  SIDBORN 

Very  different.  People  are  good  because  they 
see  something  —  something  very  beautiful  and 
true.  .  .  .  They  are  pious  because  they  are  blind. 

HUSBAND 

[thoughtfully]  She  said  I  was  blind.  .  .  .  [Fac 
ing  her.]  You  talk  as  if  you  had  authority.  How 
do  you  know  you  are  right  ?  Who  told  you  ? 

MRS.  SIDBORN 

[touching  her  eyes]  These.  He  touched  them 
and  whereas  I  was  blind,  I  see. 

HUSBAND 

And  suppose  I  tell  you  /  see  something  won 
derful  —  that  no  one  else  sees  ? 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

MRS.    SlDBORN 

Do  you ? 

HUSBAND 

[his  eyes  fall]  No. 

MRS.    SlDBORN 

[smiles]  I  thought  not.  But  you  will  —  and 
you  will  learn  to  see  first  through  her  eyes. 

HUSBAND 

If  you  are  right  about  this  —  this  uncanny 
power,  why  haven't  people  known  it  all  along 
—  years  ago  ? 

MRS.  SIDBORN 

Did  you  never  hear  of  women  of  uncanny 
power  ? 

HUSBAND 
Well  —  there  have  been  witches,  of  course. 

MRS.  SIDBORN 

They  have  called  us  that  and  burned  us  at 
the  stake.  They  have  called  it  sorcery  and 
deviltry  —  and  they  have  feared  it.  Men  have 
always  known.  It  is  women  who  have  not  dared 
believe  —  till  now  —  that  this  spreading  of  the 

188 


THE  LADY  WITH  WINGS 

spirit  wings  is  the  natural  and  beautiful  fulfil 
ment  of  life  in  them.  .  .  .  Nature  is  not  wasteful; 
she  would  not  clutter  up  the  earth  with  old  la 
dies  and  knitting-work  for  thirty  —  forty  years 
—  for  nothing.  When  she  has  finished  with 
physical  exuberance  and  vitality  she  would  fit 
us  for  the  spirit's  use.  It  is  we  who  have  been 
blind  !  Now  we  begin  to  see  and  understand 
what  it  means  to  be  —  a  woman ! 

[Enter  MRS.  LEAVITT  door  in  wall,  R. 

LADY 

I  have  been  gone  such  a  time !  Toinette 
made  me  change  my  dress  —  and  everything ! 
I  thought  she  would  never  be  done ! 

HUSBAND 

[approaching  her  and  taking  her  hands]  How 
sweet  you  look !  [Kisses  her.]  Beautiful  enough 
for  wings ! 

LADY 

[submits  hurriedly]  I'm  ready  now.  Shall  we 
go? 

MRS.  SIDBORN 

Yes,  come  —  [To  HUSBAND.]  I  shall  bring  her 
back  to  you  —  safe. 

189 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

HUSBAND 

[who  has  caught  sight  of  ANDREW]  Suppose 
you  saw  him  now  —  that  man  we  were  speak 
ing  of 

[LADY  has  seen  ANDREW  and  moves  toward  him. 

MRS.    SlDBORN 
You  mean,  do  I  care  for  him  still  ? 

HUSBAND 

That's  it ! 

[Looks  back  uneasily  at  his  wife  and  GAR 
DENER. 

MRS.    SlDBORN 

I  shall  care  for  him  always,  I  think.  But  I 
do  not  need  to  see  him.  I  am  nearer  him  in 
spirit  than  I  could  be  if  he  were  with  me. 
[Speaks  slowly  and  a  little  sadly}  Sometimes  I 
wonder  about  him.  .  .  .  When  I  am  in  New 
York  I  often  think  of  it  —  "perhaps  he  is  here 
-  somewhere  near  me  in  the  crowd  —  perhaps 
I  passed  him  to-day  —  and  did  not  know." 
But  that  is  only  when  I  am  sad  or  tired;  when 
my  spirit  lifts  again  and  I  see  —  far  —  and 
wide,  I  know  that  he  came  only  that  I  might 
have  life.  [Holds  out  her  hand.]  You  need  not  be 
190 


THE  LADY  WITH  WINGS 

afraid.  Your  wife  is  true  to  you  —  and  to  her 
self! 

[They  turn  and  look  back.  The  GARDENER 
has  gone  off,  L.,  and  the  LADY  stands  look 
ing  after  him. 

HUSBAND 

Come,  Louise  —  [LADY  comes  toward  them, 
smiling  happily.]  Remember  —  I  shall  miss  you. 
Don't  stay  away  from  me  —  too  long. 

LADY 

I  shall  come  back.  You  be  patient,  Teddy ! 

[Comes  nearer  and  lifts  her  face  to  kiss  him.}  I  — 
shall  —  come  back !      [They  go  out  green  door,  R. 

HUSBAND 

[hands  in  pockets]  So  it's  up  to  me  —  to  be 
good  —  and  get  a  pair  of  little  wings.  The  Lord 
seems  to  be  taking  care  of  Louise  all  right  — 
seems  to  be  taking  care  of  all  the  women !  But 
if  I'm  good  I've  got  to  do  it  myself!  .  .  . 
[Sighs.]  Well,  if  she's  bound  for  heaven  —  I've 
got  to  hustle !  I've  never  let  her  get  very  far 
ahead  of  me  —  yet.  [Walks  a  little  toward  back 
of  stage,  hands  in  pockets.  Turns  and  comes  for 
ward.  Speaks  over  shoulder.}  Tommie ! 
191 


THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 
TOMMIE 

[comes  front,  rubbing  hands  on  trousers}  Yes, 
sir. 

HUSBAND 

[takes  coin  from  pocket]  Could  you  make  use 
of  that? 

TOMMIE 

[grins  and  puts  it  in  pocket]  Thank  you,  sir. 

HUSBAND 

That's  all  right.  Run  along  now. 

[TOMMIE  returns  to  work  on  knees  by  per 
gola. 

HUSBAND 

[rubs  back  of  head,  thoughtfully]  There  doesn't 
seem  to  be  much  else  I  can  do  in  the  garden  — 
in  the  wing  line.  I  guess  I'd  better  go  outside. 
[Looks  about  him  thoughtfully  at  the  trees  and 
walls.]  It's  a  queer  world  !  .  .  .  There  was  Adam 
and  Eve  —  and  that  apple.  [Waving  hand  vaguely 
toward  trees.]  And  here  is  Louise  —  and  me  — 
[trying  to  peer  over  shoulder  at  his  back]  and  these 
eternal  wings ! 

CURTAIN 
192 


o-o 


3435f? 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  UBRARY 


